


Marionette

by PanTheMan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Angry Sex, Angst, Bad Albus Dumbledore, Character Growth, Depression, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Gen, Good Voldemort (Harry Potter), Guardian Severus Snape, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Multi, Non-con incest, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Romance, Self-Harm, rocky apologies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 04:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18491608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanTheMan/pseuds/PanTheMan
Summary: In the midst of the chaos of his sixth year, Harry finds a source of stress release in Draco Malfoy that becomes so much more than he ever expected it could. However, everything comes crashing down when Draco lets Death Eaters into the school at the end of the year. Harry overhears some interesting things, including the fact that Dumbledore knew about his abuse all along, and his world shatters. When Vernon finds out about Harry's sexuality that summer, he gives him the worst beating of his life and nearly kills him. With nowhere to turn and unable to trust anyone, he takes his destiny into his own hands. Prophecies can be broken, after all.





	1. Falling Inside the Black

**Author's Note:**

> Relationships and tags will be added as the story grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song is Falling Inside The Black by Skillet

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters!  
  
**I hope you enjoy this story! It is very new so please bear with me as I write it. I only started it yesterday. A lot, if not all, of the chapters are/will be named after song titles.**

* * *

Hogwarts was Harry’s home. He felt comfortable with the Weasleys, sure, but he still felt like a guest at their house. He still felt indebted to them. To Molly’s love and meals. To Ron’s friendship. To their kindness. Their home was his home they said, but it wasn’t. It never felt that way. It was so much more of one than Privet Drive of course, but he still felt like he owed them. At Hogwarts was where he was truly free. Even though he was attacked there nearly every year, even though there were still rules he needed to follow, even though it was a school. There were places to hide if he needed to get away where no one could follow, if he was careful enough. He wasn’t able to fully be himself, but he has never been able to so he didn’t know what that even felt like. No one beat him up, here. No one called him a freak. No one starved him. No one… hurt him. Well, not in the sense the Dursleys do.  
  
But even homes had negative qualities and experiences, and this year was shaping up to be a crazy one. Between pensieve sessions with Dumbledore, legilimency lessons from Snape (though those didn’t last long), manipulating a memory from Slughorn, Ron and Lavender sucking each other’s faces off, a perpetually pissed off Hermione, the Half Blood Prince’s book, Ron getting poisoned, girls trying to sneak him love potions, and Draco Malfoy being sneaky and suspicious, Harry felt like he was going insane. His mind and his moods have been spiraling out of control.  
  
Then again, not a single year while at this school has been anything but chaotic. This was the curse of his life. There was always chaos wherever he went, always madness and impossible situations. He stopped trying to predict anything in his third year. Before he knew he was a wizard, life sucked but it was simple and easy for him to handle. He was abused and neglected, but he learned how to control outcomes and ease his family’s moods. Ever since Voldemort and Dumbledore came swooping into his life, he lost all forms of control. All sense of predictability flew out the window. He found a method of coping that not even his closest friends knew about; he kept the visible evidence of it covered at all times whether by clothing or a spell. This addiction exploded last summer when Dudley decided he would take out his frustrations on Harry in a new way that Vernon and Petunia didn’t know about. That was when his panic attacks started. That was when he began falling, losing his way, desperately grasping for the light Dumbledore kept promising him.  
  
He shook his head free of those thoughts and shuddered. As he poured over the Marauder’s Map searching for Draco Malfoy’s footsteps, he knew that Hermione was right; he had become obsessed with it and finding out what Malfoy was up to. Harry hated that she was right and he continued to deny it out loud, but he knew the truth. He still didn’t agree with her about being obsessed with Malfoy himself, though. That was just preposterous. He knew why he had obsessions, an obsessive personality, and why she didn’t understand it. Obsessing over things made him feel important. It gave him a purpose and made him feel needed, even if he went overboard sometimes.  
  
He had good reason to believe Malfoy was up to something and that he was a death eater, but she grew more annoyed with every point he tried to make. Before the beginning of the school year back in August, he heard Draco and Narcissa in Madam Malkin’s shop. Draco freaked out about his left sleeve being pushed up. How was that not hard proof? But Hermione didn’t buy it, then. She even fought him about the unbreakable vow he found out about, disregarded what happened to Katie Bell as something Malfoy wouldn’t do, and refused to believe it was Malfoy’s doing when Ron was accidentally poisoned by a bottle of mead meant for the headmaster. Draco was just a student, after all. A kid like them. So she said.  
  
But he knew better. He wasn’t sure how or why, he just had a gut feeling. But even he made mistakes, and he admitted that he went too far last week. He nearly killed Malfoy with a spell that was handwritten on one of the pages of the Half Blood Prince’s potions textbook. He did feel badly about that and hadn’t worked up the courage to apologize, yet. Though to be fair, the blonde had only returned to classes two days ago. Which was why he was currently scouring the map. He intended to apologize. … And maybe find out what Malfoy was up to at the same time.  
  
His breath hitched; Malfoy’s name appeared. Harry figured out by now that the blonde was using the Room of Requirement, but he’s tried going in there asking for the room Draco was using and found nothing. He needed to follow Malfoy inside, which was why he was sitting under his invisibility cloak on the floor outside of the empty wall on the seventh floor. Harry scrambled up and hunched over so his feet wouldn’t be visible. A few minutes later, Draco came around the corner and walked back and forth in front of the wall. A door appeared and Harry followed him inside. He almost audibly gasped at how large this room was and how many mountainous piles of – well, rubbish, towered over them. It looked like years of discarded items that teetered precariously on top of each other, magic being the only thing keeping it all from toppling over.  
  
He was so in awe by it all that he didn’t notice Draco stopped walking, or that he turned around. He waved his wand and Harry’s cloak flew off. The two young men stood there watching each other, both waiting for the other to make a move. Harry was frozen while trying to make his mouth say what he wanted to say and Draco was positively _seething_.  
  
“What the _fuck_ do you want, Potter?” the blonde asked through clenched teeth. “Come to laugh at me for besting me last week? Or perhaps you want another go? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He stretched his wand arm out further in emphasis.  
  
Harry shook his head, finally finding his voice. “No, no I came here to –”  
  
Draco didn’t give him a chance to speak. He fired a curse at Harry, who dodged and ran around a pile of junk. “To finish me off, didn’t you?! Come on, Potter! Don’t be a wuss! Let’s END this once and for all!” He shot a curse directly into the tower Harry was hiding behind. It exploded, forcing Harry to run.

“I don’t want to fight you, you idiot!”  
  
Draco snarled as his eyes caught Harry’s again. “Like I’m supposed to believe that!”  
  
“I didn’t know what that spell did!”  
  
This made Draco pause. “You… used a curse… without knowing what it did?” he asked quietly, rage bubbling, threatening to spill over again.  
  
Harry felt so guilty but he had to get this out. He had to. “Yes. It was in one of my textbooks, an old one that has a bunch of handwritten notes in it. I wasn’t thinking, I was angry about Katie and I saw the look you gave her when she came back – I lost control.”  
  
Draco was shaking with fury. “So you thought you’d try out a spell you’d never heard of on me.”  
  
Harry looked at the ground. “… Yeah.”  
  
“That almost killed me.”  
  
Harry bit his lip. “Yeah.”  
  
“And you want to, what exactly? Say you’re sorry? Tell me how badly you feel about it?”  
  
Harry looked back up at Draco. “Yes. I do, I am. I’m so-”  
  
“SAVE IT, POTTER!” the blonde bellowed. Harry blinked in shock. “You don’t give a _shit_ about me! You have no idea what this war is really about, you have no clue what’s really going on out there, how many people are being needlessly killed, or what your friends are even up to! You don’t give a real shit about anyone but yourself! You parade around being this wonderful friend who loves his friends but inside, you’re only worried about _yourself_. Always watching your own back, carelessly wandering through life while everything is handed to you and throwing tantrums when things don’t go your way!”  
  
Harry’s shock turned to a slow burn anger, which grew volcanically until he exploded. “YOU THINK EVERYTHING IS _HANDED_ TO ME?!” He felt satisfaction when Draco looked taken aback. He advanced on the blonde with his wand still out and poised, ready just in case. His breathing was labored, heavy. He felt a mild panic attack coming on from the memories Malfoy forced him to relive. “I do watch my back, yes, but did you ever, even once, stop to think about _WHY?_ ” Draco stood his ground and opened his mouth to retort but Harry didn’t let him. “I GREW UP WITH MUGGLES!” He didn’t know why he was telling Malfoy this. Maybe part of him wanted someone to know. Someone other than Hermione and Ron, who didn’t even know the surface of what the Dursleys did to him. He was sick of the world believing he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. Sick of everyone thinking he always knew about his parents and that he was a wizard. Sick of people pin-balling about whether they loved him or were afraid of him. Sick of Malfoy constantly on his case, accusing him of having it made, of having this picture perfect family. “I didn’t know I had _magic_ until Hagrid forced a visit on my aunt and uncle BECAUSE THEY HAD BEEN REFUSING TO GIVE ME MY HOGWARTS LETTER!” He needed to calm down, or this panic attack would become full blown and he could _not_ let that happen in front of Malfoy. “You know nothing about me, Malfoy. I could say all these wretched things I think about you but I won’t, because nothing is what it seems on the surface. What I do know, though, is that you’re an egotistical, arrogant, holier-than-thou, cold-hearted son of a bitch.”  
  
Clearly Draco hit a nerve. He’s never seen Potter this enraged before. He subconsciously took a step back but stopped himself. He stood still and let Potter advance on him. The brunette screamed and raged, but it wasn’t one of his normal anger spikes. This was more serious. Why would he need to watch his back? Muggles? Wait, Harry Potter grew up with muggles? Muggles who didn’t tell him who he was, and who had tried to keep him from going to school. How he had been so wrong about Potter, he didn’t know. He just assumed that all this time, Potter was a drama queen who ached for attention. But there was something not quite right about what the Golden Boy had been saying. Something felt off. Warning bells were ringing in Draco’s head. But before he could process any of it, Harry dropped a bomb. Draco let go of his wand and swung.  
  
Before Harry knew it, Draco’s fist connected with his face. He dropped his wand and stumbled backward. Momentarily dazed, he shook his head and dodged another punch. That may have hurt, but Vernon and Dudley have been hitting him his whole life. He was used to it, and Draco wasn’t as strong as they were. He launched himself at Draco, wrapped his arms around the blonde’s middle, and sent them sprawling to the floor. This was exactly the kind of distraction Harry needed to knock the panic attack out of his system. They punched and rolled around but it didn’t last long. Before he knew it, he was on his back being pinned by Draco with one hand on his chest. Draco’s other arm cocked back with a fist ready to fly at his face, but all Harry saw was Dudley. Flashes of Dudley pinning him down, pulling his pants off, and turning him over raced through his mind. It triggered Harry’s freeze mode. He stopped struggling.  
  
Draco was both taller and stronger than Harry. He was able to take over quickly, having had many lessons in hand-to-hand combat, and rolled them over. He straddled the brunette, held him down, and drew back to hit him – but something stopped him. Potter flinched. He turned his head to the side and stopped fighting. Up until that point, Draco wanted to hurt him. He wanted to beat the shit out of him. But this was a sign of abuse. He paused with his arm still in the air and all traces of anger fled from his face. Was this what Potter meant by nothing is what it seems on the surface?  
  
Harry opened his eyes. This was Malfoy, not Dudley. He had to remember that. He focused on steadying his breathing and studying Draco’s face. That would help. He took in those grey eyes, the angular face, the blonde hair. His flashback subsided. But with that came a feeling he did not want. Arousal. He has always thought Draco was beautiful, but that never got in the way before. It never took over his senses, never made him hard, never gave him the desire to kiss him. Harry’s anger came roaring back. Draco could _not_ know about this. So Harry needed to goad him into hitting him again. “Why’d you stop?! HIT ME!”  
  
But Draco got off him and stood. He walked over to his wand, picked it up, and sheathed it.  
  
Harry shot off the floor and stalked over to him. He grabbed Draco’s arm, spun him around, and shoved him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! One minute you’re attacking me, the next you’re walking away?! Fucking finish what you started, you unbalanced ferret!”  
  
Draco had every intention of walking away, he truly did, but the ferret comment struck a cord. Being bounced around as a ferret was the most humiliating moment of his life. So fuck it. It wasn’t his responsibility to be sensitive about Potter’s supposed abuse, which he might have imagined anyway. And back to brawling they were, though there was more wrestling this time. More of a struggle, and less hitting. It didn’t take long for him to wind up on top but this time he pinned Harry’s arms down instead of his chest. “Don’t. Call me. A ferret.”  
  
He should have let Malfoy walk away. He wouldn’t have been caught in this predicament if he had. They were on the floor again, and he was on his back. Again. He didn’t understand how Draco was so heavy and so strong when he didn’t look it. His heartbeat sped up but this time, it wasn’t from fear of being pinned. Perhaps that was partly due to how Draco was holding him down, but it was mostly a different reason. Malfoy was sitting on his hips. Curse his hormones. Curse his sexuality that had only just now reared its head, making itself known. Curse his hardening dick _and curse Draco Malfoy_. The only way he was getting out of this was if he either conceded defeat, which he wasn’t going to do, or if he caught Malfoy off balance. He jerked his hips up to unseat the blonde, but it had… unexpected results.

* * *

**Sorry the first chapter is short (well, it's short for me!) but I had to end it there or else it would turn into a much longer chapter. The next one should be up soon. Please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Painkiller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song is Painkiller by Three Days Grace

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or its characters.  
  
**So I thought it would tak** **e me a while to write another chapter, but this one flowed out of me today. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

  
Harry hadn’t shown any signs of having wrestling knowledge before, so Draco was completely unprepared for the hip thrust. He wasn’t bracing himself and he wasn’t sitting further forward, which was where he should have been for a better pin but he didn’t think Potter could throw him. Because he was sitting with all of his weight, he did not go flying forward. Thankfully he weighed a lot more than he looked. What startled him most was not that the golden boy knew that move, but that of all the things that could’ve happened in that moment, of all the possible outcomes, it turned out that Potter was just as turned on as he was. He hadn’t even realized that the brunette was hard until Potter tried to unseat him because he was so focused on pinning the asshole down. Harry’s movement did nothing but bring to light the fact that they were both horny.  
  
A hiss erupted from Draco’s mouth at the contact. His eyes closed and he gripped Potter’s arms as shock waves shot through him. He heard a gasp and opened his now heavy, lidded eyes. The man under him looked shocked. “My, my, what a surprising turn of events. Who would’ve thought the chosen one would have the hots for his enemy?”  
  
Harry’s attempt to throw Draco off him didn’t work. It ground their hips together and elicited reactions from both of them, something that both embarrassed and shocked him. Malfoy was turned on, too. This could work well in his favor. Harry’s inner Slytherin came roaring to life. He smirked. “Who woulda thought that the chosen one could make his enemy, the Slytherin ice prince himself, almost cream his pants with one movement?” he shot back.  
  
Draco always hated that nickname. It implied that he was emotionless, and in fact he felt quite deeply. He was sensitive and he was tired of people assuming he had no feelings. Then again, he had to shoot himself in the foot and pretend it was true or else everything would crumble. “You’re one to talk. Don’t act as if you have anything to hold over me. You’re just as gay as I am.”  
  
“Maybe, but no one knows about you.” He didn’t mean to imply that people knew about him but it worked in his favor. Malfoy didn’t know who knew about Harry’s sexuality, and it wasn’t information Harry was about to reveal.  
  
Draco sneered. “No one knows because I take great care in ensuring that it remains a secret.”  
  
Instead of retorting, and drunk on power, Harry rolled his hips. Gently, this time. It generated the result he wanted – Malfoy was rendered incapacitated for a moment. To be fair, so was he, but he was more focused on his elation at having something to hold over the blonde. “No wonder you Slytherins love power. This is addicting.”  
  
Draco gritted his teeth when Potter realized he could use this against him. The bastard did it again, and Draco could not stop the guttural groan that escaped his throat. His fingers tightened around Potter’s biceps and his eyes flew shut, same as before. He couldn’t help the reaction. When his eyes opened again, he did not glare as he was sure Potter thought he would. He was not angry or embarrassed. His mouth curled into a slow, predatory grin. He felt glee as Potter’s smirk fell.  
  
“Power, over me? I may be ashamed of my sexuality, but so are you or else the entire world would have known by now. We are in the same boat, but are you willing to back your words?” He leaned forward and spoke low in Harry’s ear. “Can you take what you give?” He smirked when Harry gulped, and ground his hips against Potter’s. Slowly, agonizingly. “Don’t challenge me, Potter, unless you can go the distance,” he purred.   
  
Harry’s power trip ended almost as quickly as it had begun. He was expecting Draco to resist, not accept it and challenge him. He gulped. His heartbeat sped up. He couldn’t seem to get his body to respond the way he wanted to. Instead, it was acting on its own. He moaned as Malfoy expertly used his hips, then shivered at his words. Go the distance? Did he mean… was he bluffing or would he actually do that with him? He furrowed his brows as he stared curiously at Malfoy when the blonde pushed himself back up. “You would… with me? But… you hate me. I hate you.”  
  
Draco almost snorted. “I hate you, yes, but I can hate you and still want to fuck your brains out.” He wanted to laugh at the shocked look on Potter’s face. “I think I’ve found a different way for us to work off steam instead of always fighting in the halls.”  
  
Harry swallowed. “What?”  
  
“Angry sex, Potter. It’s rather lovely, I’ve heard, and it would benefit us both. Imagine, no more hospital wing visits, no more bruises on our faces, no more detentions. Just pure, angry bliss without the pain.” He moved his hips to drive that point home.  
  
Harry shuddered beneath him at just the thought of that, of the image it created in his head. His head flew back when the blonde moved against him. “Stop. Malfoy, stop.” He couldn’t think and he hated that.  
  
Draco stilled. “Do you really want me to stop?” He didn’t believe Harry didn’t want this, and his tone indicated that, but stop meant stop. To be honest with himself, he really wanted this even though it was Harry bloody Potter, and he hoped it was reciprocated. He was in dire need of a good fuck and this was the perfect way to get rid of a lot of his stress.  
  
Harry glanced nervously at those grey eyes, trying to see through them. Malfoy didn’t seem like the type to take advantage of him, but they’ve always been enemies. Was he really giving Harry a choice? “You’d stop if I meant it?”  
  
Draco cocked his head. “Merlin’s balls, Potter. I’m horny and your enemy, but I’m not a rapist. Do you want this or not?”  
  
He _was_ being given the choice. His body wanted this, but did _he?_ A small voice in the back of his mind told him to go for it, that he deserved to know what sex was supposed to feel like. He was just overwhelmed. This was so weird, it was happening so fast, and he didn’t have time to think about it. He had to make the choice now. “I… guess so.”  
  
The blonde shook his head. “Not good enough. Yes or no.”  
  
Harry sighed frustratedly. He was embarrassed, but grateful that Malfoy needed a yes or a no. “Yeah, yes, okay?”  
  
Draco smirked when he got the answer he wanted. He pushed Potter to give a more definitive answer than ‘I guess so’ because consent was highly important to him. He wished they didn’t have to do this on a dusty floor, though. Suddenly their surroundings changed. They both blinked as the piles of junk disappeared, the room became much smaller, and a bed and fireplace appeared. “Well now, that’s much better.”  
  
He stood and helped Harry up. He wasted no time in slipping his hands under Harry’s shirt, mildly surprised at the abs he felt underneath. Not even in the quidditch locker rooms has he ever seen the Gryffindor without his clothes on, so he didn’t know how ripped he was. It sent a thrill through him. “Rules,” he began as he closed in and bit Potter’s neck. “One – no kissing.” He slowly moved them toward the bed while making sure to leave a mark on the brunette’s skin. He detached himself to lift the shirt up and pull it off. He was about to make up another rule when his eyes caught Potter’s left arm. The words died on his tongue.  
  
Harry had let Draco help him up but wasn’t given time to do anything – not that he even knew what to do – before his neck and abs were attacked by teeth and hands. He let out a humiliating, wanton moan; apparently he liked pain, in the right circumstance. He muttered an agreement on the no kissing rule even though he didn’t understand it and, before he even thought about his arm, his shirt was off. He saw Draco’s eyes zero in on his cuts and scars, and he froze. He had completely forgotten about that. “Shit.” He quickly turned his arm over and stared wide-eyed at Malfoy. The only people who knew about this were the Dursleys because Harry couldn’t hide it from them, and they used it as ammunition.  
  
“Rule number two,” he said quickly and with a hardness to his voice, “no emotions or judgements.” Draco’s eyes met his and nodded. Harry subconsciously put his right hand over his arm as if to somehow hide it. “No one knows about this. And I stupidly forgot the charm.”  
  
Draco surprised himself when he felt for Potter. He definitely misjudged him; no wonder Potter got so angry earlier at Draco’s accusations. No one cut up their arm like that and hid it from everyone for no good reason. He immediately thought of his own arm and feared Potter’s reaction. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he made up the third rule. “Three, nothing done, seen, or spoken leaves this room, or whatever other rooms we use in the castle.”  
  
Harry nodded, grateful for this rule because it included his own arm. Apparently Malfoy wasn’t going to use this against him. Then he remembered something that the third rule reminded him of. His eyes dropped to Draco’s left arm, which was still covered by cloth. He had been so sure that Malfoy had a dark mark before tonight, but with that third rule, he was absolutely positive.  
  
“I mean it, Potter. Nothing. Leaves. This. Room. Agreed?”  
  
Harry tore his eyes away from Draco’s arm. The blonde’s face was gravely serious and held a hint of fear. “Agreed. I already knew you had one, anyway.”  
  
Draco stiffened. “How…” It didn’t matter how Potter knew. He sneered. “Never mind how, of course you’d assume that.”  
  
“I was right though, wasn’t I?” Draco had nothing to say. “Nothing leaves this room,” Harry repeated. “You already have information about me that I don’t want getting out, anyway.”  
  
Draco nodded and pulled his arms out of his sleeves, dropping his shirt on the floor. His eyes never left Potter’s face, watching those green eyes travel back to his arm, widening as they saw the dark mark. Just as Potter had done, Draco turned his arm over to hide it. “Only one more rule, then. Similar to no emotions, except more important – no feelings. Don’t you go falling for me.”  
  
Harry scrunched up his face. “Yeah, that’ll never happen. As long as you don’t go fallin’ for me, either, we’re good.”  
  
Draco’s hands were on him again, pulling their bodies flush, roaming, setting his skin on fire. Harry let his hands travel too, while teeth ravaged his neck. Luckily, he knew a spell that would hide the bruises. The more his arousal built, the bolder he became as his inhibitions and shyness melted away. He tested the waters and nibbled on Malfoy’s neck. The blonde stiffened as his breath hitched. That was a good reaction, so he took the flesh between his teeth and bit down, releasing only to suck the pain away. His hands held Draco’s hips while he ground against him. He had no idea where this bravery had come from but if Malfoy kept making noises like what just came from deep within his chest, Harry was sure he could dredge up some more of it.  
  
Harry surprised Draco with what he did. He took control and momentarily made the Slytherin lose his, finding out one of the blonde’s weaknesses in the process. He loved being bitten. He loved biting, too, clearly, but being bitten rendered him immobile. After the shock waves ended, he grabbed Harry and pushed him backwards against the bed, and then on it. He climbed up with the Gryffindor and made a grab at his pants. He undid them, his hands impatient and cumbersome, and pulled them off. He was barely able to hold in his groan at the sight of the bulge in Potter’s boxer briefs. Before he knew what he was doing, he was cupping Harry, squeezing, massaging.  
  
Harry was doing everything he could to not writhe underneath Draco. That _would_ be too embarrassing. But no one had ever touched him like this and it was too much. He grabbed the fastenings of the blonde’s pants and hastily undid them, sitting up to push them off. Draco impatiently shoved them the rest of the way off, then grabbed at Potter’s underwear. Harry lifted his hips to help and hated the way Draco stared at him while pulling his own boxer briefs off.  
  
Harry never thought of himself as attractive so he didn’t understand why Draco stared at him, or bit him, or why his hands roamed his body. He didn’t understand why Draco wanted to have sex with him at all, but it couldn’t possibly be for the same reasons why Harry was staring at him. Draco Malfoy was a _god_. Perfectly sculpted, alabaster skin. Muscles like cut marble. A jawline that could gut glass. And eyes as grey and stormy as thunderclouds. Even his dick was perfect. Merlin, he sounded corny in his head. But at that moment, he was very glad that he chose to do this instead of walk away. He swallowed but could not stop the moan caused by Draco climbing on top of him again, at the feeling of their bodies together with no clothing between them.  
  
Draco was having similar thoughts. Potter was shorter, stockier, and looked heavier than Draco but that was because the Slytherin had years of combat training under his belt. His muscles were more compact. Potter’s were from quidditch and only developed recently, but they were delectable all the same. He had the perfect amount of body hair, including a thin line that traveled from his navel down. Draco was particularly fond of that look. The blonde’ eyes raked Potter’s body and he wondered why they hadn’t done this sooner. He straddled Harry and leaned down to capture his neck with his teeth again. He began a slow rhythm with his hips and let out a breathy groan when Potter grabbed him, rolling his hips in time.  
  
He couldn’t take much more and stopped, pushing himself up for a breather. “You’ve done this before, right?”  
  
Why did Malfoy have to ask that. Things were going fine. “No.” Well, it was the truth. What Dudley did to him was not sex, and he wanted to experience sex as it was meant to feel. Draco paused and gave him a concerned look. Harry almost rolled his eyes “Well don’t stop, _now_.”  
  
The blonde suddenly felt possessive of him, as silly as that seemed. Though if the bruises forming all over Harry’s neck were any indication, Draco had been possessive of him since the start of all this. He liked being rough but he didn’t want Harry to have a bad first time. He wasn’t evil, after all. “Do you even know what’s involved?”  
  
Harry glared, willing his flashbacks of his cousin away. He was not about to let them ruin this for him. “I know where your dick goes,” he snapped, “and if you don’t put it there soon, I’m gonna get up and leave.” He didn’t care that he didn’t know everything about sex, or that he knew even less about sex with another guy. He’d heard enough from Seamus and Dean to get the gist of it and he wasn’t about to let Malfoy make him feel stupid for it. But the anger behind his words went far deeper than mere embarrassment. He refused to think about it.  
  
Draco cocked his head and smirked. There was a predatory gleam in his eyes that almost melted Harry right then and there. “So impatient.” He reached for the lube that was on the bedside table – he’d never understand how this room worked – and squeezed some on his fingers. There were no feelings involved, but he wasn’t a complete jerk. He wasn’t about to let Potter’s first time be unpleasant. He snaked his hand between them and worked a finger inside Harry, reveling in the reaction he got out of the golden boy.  
  
Harry had forgotten about this part; he’d shoved it from his mind after Seamus teased him with details he didn’t want to hear. Or maybe he was trying not to hear them because it may have turned him on a little. He couldn’t remember. He just knew there were fingers involved, but there never were with Dudley. He had to stop thinking about his cousin but it felt impossible when that was the only experience he had to go by. He forced himself to relax. This felt good. This didn’t hurt. And the fact that he and his enemy were doing something ‘forbidden’ was exciting. Intoxicating. Dudley never turned him on. He was never careful or gentle. Then again, with Dudley it was never sex. Slowly but surely, thoughts of his cousin became less and less as his mind was filled with thoughts of the blonde god on top of him, and as he was filled with another finger. “Fuck,” he groaned.   
  
When the Gryffindor showed no sign of pain, Draco quickened his prep until he was sure Harry was ready. He smirked at the brunette's impatience. This was going to be fun.

* * *

  
**Thanks for rea** **ding! Thanks for the kudos! <3 **


	3. Bring Me To Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title song is Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**  
  
**Thank you so much for the favs and follows!**

* * *

  
Harry was infinitely grateful that Snape refused to teach him occlumency a while ago because he would certainly have seen Harry’s most recent memories. Which would have been unimaginably awkward and would have given him and Draco away. Last Friday was the best night of his entire existence. He still hated Malfoy, but he found himself with a bounce to his step for the first time in his life. He was happy. The git was making him happy.  
  
Well, no. That wasn’t entirely true. It was the activity he partook in with the git that was making him happy. He still wanted to strangle the Slytherin, but taking it out on sex was a much nicer option than constantly being on his toes waiting for another fight. He hated to admit that Malfoy was right. That on Monday, he discovered that he didn’t want to punch Malfoy’s face in when he saw him in DADA. He didn’t want to argue. He didn’t feel the desire to even engage with him. Though this was a change he liked, it brought him a different problem – now all he could think about whenever he saw the blonde was sex. And he went stiff every single time. It’s only been three days, but he was suffering. He kept replaying the night in his mind and thanked his lucky stars that their uniforms and robes made it easy for him to hide his numerous hard-ons.  
  
And then something very bad happened. He was paired with Malfoy in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was purely accidental; people paired up so quickly and he had been daydreaming so by the time he looked up to find a partner, Malfoy was the only one left. Even Snape looked severely displeased about it, but there was nothing that could be done. Harry and Draco looked around at their friends, who gave them pitying looks but none of them were willing to switch. The selfish pricks.  
  
They were to practice nonverbal jinxing and shield charms. Just Harry’s luck; he was shit at nonverbal casting. He and Draco moved to a back corner of the room. Many eyes were on them, most likely expecting the room to explode at any moment. Harry’s cheeks were flushed and hot. He spoke low so that only Draco could hear him. “They’re expecting a show. If we give them one, we’ll get detention. If we don’t, they’ll all talk.”  
  
“No, _you_ will get detention. I’ll get off scot-free.”  
  
Harry glowered. “Right, of course you will. Silly me, how could I forget Snape’s favoritism.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and sneered. He made up rules for a very good reason and it seemed that Potter was already trying to bend them, no matter that it was unintentional. He did not have sex with the Gryffindor to make things better between them, he did it as an alternative. It didn’t mean they’d stop hating each other. It didn’t mean they’d be nicer to each other. It simply was a replacement for their fights in hallways and classrooms. “Remember our rules, Potter. There’s no show to put on. Out here, we’re still us. Nothing has changed.” He sent a nonverbal jinx at Harry, _tarantallegra._ He should have indicated that he was starting their assignment for the class, but he didn’t much feel like it. Dick move? Yeah. But he was Draco Malfoy, and that was simply what he did. Plus, Potter annoyed him. Maybe he shouldn’t have laughed at the Gryffindor, but what was done was done. He certainly did not expect what Potter did next.  
  
Harry glared angrily. He hadn’t forgotten their rules, but he at least hoped they’d be a little more civil. Draco was the one who suggested sex as an alternative so Harry thought that meant less fighting outside of the bedroom. He was caught off guard by the jinx and hated every fiber of Malfoy’s being in that moment. Not that he didn’t normally, but the intensity had skyrocketed. Draco was supposed to cast _finite incantatem_ but he took his sweet time, and laughed in Harry’s face. The whole classroom was laughing, in fact. Snape was the one who canceled the jinx and Harry wasted no time in jinxing Draco back. But the nonverbal didn’t work, so he whipped out his wand. “Fuck it. _Stupefy._ ”  
  
He received detention, of course, but the look on Malfoy’s face and the class’ reaction were worth it. Needless to say, Snape broke them apart and forced another pair to switch with them. Harry felt badly for poor Neville. As he was walking away toward Theo Nott, his new partner, he was suddenly blasted in the back with a stunning spell.  
  
“ _Detention_ , Mr. Malfoy! This is not dueling class! Any more spell throwing that is _not_ nonverbal _or_ done with your partners will result in suspension and you will spend the rest of the year’s Saturdays in detention!”  
  
Being stunned from behind was worth the pain and humiliation for the justice served to Malfoy. The only problem? They were to serve detention together tonight by cleaning and scrubbing the floor of the DADA classroom. Manually.

* * *

  
_Draco slid inside him. Both men groaned at the new sensation. He scanned Harry’s face for any signs of pain but there were none. He pulled out and slowly thrust back in. “Relax.” Harry had been tense, scared that this would turn into a bad experience and nervous that he wasn’t doing anything right. He did relax, though, and Draco fell into a slow rhythm. Harry wrapped his legs around the blonde’s waist. His nails, or what was left of them, dragged down Malfoy’s back, bringing a growl out of the Slytherin. Everyone he knows who has had sex all said it was incredible, so he knew it was supposed to feel good. But not this good._  
  
“Hi Harry,” came a feminine voice, pulling Harry out of his memory.  
  
He jumped, blinked, and smiled at Hermione and Ron, blushing at being caught even though they didn’t know what he was thinking about. She apologized for scaring him. “It’s okay. Hey guys.” They were in the Great Hall for lunch before potions. Thankfully Malfoy wasn’t in potions this year. Harry thought they might actually blow up the school if he was.  
  
The other two Gryffindors grabbed plates and food. “Malfoy’s a dick,” Ron said while chewing on a piece of bread. Hermione cringed.  
  
Malfoy and dick in the same sentence brought Harry back to more memories. He flushed again and shoved soup in his mouth. Hermione looked at him strangely. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, fine. Just pissed off.”  
  
She bought that explanation. “I’m sorry you two were paired this morning. And that Ron and I…”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, Mione. I’d never expect you two to take my place and I wouldn’t want you to. He’s an asshole.” He happened to look up at that moment and caught said blonde’s gaze as the Slytherin entered the room with his friends. They sat at their table, those grey eyes burning into his until Malfoy broke contact. Harry’s pants tightened. That was not a look of anger. It was lustful and promised another night like their last one. It both aroused and incensed Harry. How dare the asshole taunt him like that.  
  
_The pace quickened. A hand slid between them and fingers curled around Harry’s dick. He sucked in a breath. Malfoy matched his strokes with his thrusts. Their breathing became ragged and erratic. Harry arched his back. “More,” he begged. “Lock your ankles and lift your hips,” Draco told him. He did, and saw stars. The change in angle allowed Draco to hit a spot inside Harry that he didn’t know was there._  
  
Harry shoved more soup in his mouth and nearly burned his tongue, but he welcomed the distraction. He closed his legs under the table even though no one could see how hard he was.  
  
“Are you okay, Harry?” Hermione asked him again, though this time because he sputtered and made a face when swallowing the soup.  
  
“Yeah, soup’s too hot.”  
  
Ron laughed at him and they fell into easy, casual conversation. But things always seemed to lead back to Malfoy.  
  
“Poor Neville. I really thought Malfoy would blast his head off.”  
  
“He _was_ in a particularly foul mood,” Hermione remarked. “Though Neville and Nott pairing together? Now that was interesting.”  
  
“Whaddaya mean?”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Neville is scared of Slytherins. All of them. But he agreed when Nott asked to be his partner.”  
  
Ron had a blank look on his face. “So? Nott isn’t one of the bad ones. He's friendly to everyone. Neville probably said yes because the rest of us were already paired and I dunno what you’re getting at. Why does it matter?”  
  
Hermione sighed. “Because it’s - oh, never mind. You wouldn’t understand, anyway.”  
  
“What’s that supposed ta mean?!”  
  
Harry smiled at his friends, grateful for their company and for the fact that the conversation had veered away from Malfoy again. But his thoughts hadn’t.  
  
_He reached behind him and posted a palm on the bed frame. His other hand gripped Malfoy's thigh. “Harder,” he ordered. Draco complied. Watching the blonde come undone above him unraveled the rest of him. He came first, Draco moments after. The look on Malfoy’s face as he recovered made Harry want another go. It was angelic, beautiful, and all of his masks were gone. The moment was raw._  
  
“Harry?”  
  
Harry looked at his friends. “Huh?” He’d do anything to see that rawness again, though he had to remind himself that he was pissed at Malfoy.  
  
Hermione pursed her lips. “What is _with_ you? Usually you’re much more into conversation at lunch, especially if it has to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts class.”  
  
He looked sheepish. “Heh, sorry. My head’s just in the clouds today.”  
  
“Today?” she challenged. “It’s been in the clouds for at least a few days.  
  
His hand ran through his hair nervously, suddenly very aware that Malfoy’s eyes were on him again. “It’s just Dumbledore stuff. Can’t really talk about it here.” He hated lying to them. He hated it so much. But this was not something he could ever tell them. Like the Dursleys’ treatment of him, some things were just meant to be kept secret.  
  
Hermione’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and she nodded. “Tell us later? After potions?”  
  
“I haven’t seen a new memory about… you know, Tom. It’s just getting the memory from Slug that’s been hard. Slug’s been better after Ron got poisoned, but he’s still avoiding me.”  
  
They chatted and swapped ideas on how to get Harry Slughorn’s memory until it was time for potions, which had been getting worse since he threw away the Half Blood Prince’s book. Slughorn was unimpressed with Harry and was becoming more and more distant.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day in potions, doing homework, and having dinner with Ron and Hermione. They were trying to help him feel better and make him smile before going to detention, and it worked. Somewhat. He said goodbye to them at 7pm and trudged to the DADA classroom. Malfoy was already there, sitting at a desk.  
  
“How nice of you to join us, Mr. Potter,” came Snape’s snide remark. Harry didn’t bother to correct him by saying he was early; it wouldn’t have mattered, and would probably have earned him another detention. “Get to work. No magic; I will know. This floor had better be spotless when I arrive tomorrow morning. Work together and do _not_ blow up my classroom. If you two disrupt my class ever again, I will have something far worse in store for you. Do not test me.” He performed a few spells they didn’t recognize on the door and turned back to them. “This door will not open until the task is complete. If you try to leave before it is done, or if it is done poorly, you will receive a rather nasty surprise. Goodnight, gentlemen.” He sneered and left.  
  
Harry immediately set to work, grabbing chairs and putting them up on the desks as Malfoy watched. “Don’t bother trying to help. This will be done faster if I just do it myself.” He hated housework, but he was an expert at it, and efficient to a fault.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Fine by me.” He sat on a desk, pulled out a book, laid down on his back, and began to read.  
  
Frustrated, furious, and hurt at the fact that Malfoy so easily brushed off the work they were meant to do, Harry grabbed a broom and swept. He was working hard to force away memories of life at the Dursleys’ that kept barraging his mind. Then he mopped, scrubbed some areas, moved furniture around, and mopped again. All in all, it took him an hour. He picked up his bag and went to leave. He heard Malfoy move behind him and then felt fingers curl around his elbow. His heartbeat quickened and he hated it. “What?” he snapped. He turned to face him.  
  
Draco snuck a few glances at Harry during the hour, wondering why he was so good at this. Draco was impressed, as much as he hated to admit it. He felt a little guilty for not helping; a foreign feeling that he wasn’t used to feeling regarding Potter. When the Gryffindor went to leave the room, Draco stopped him. “You did that so fast that we still have a lot of time before we have to go to bed,” he hinted. He pulled Harry close but the brunette broke away, surprising him.  
  
“Fuck off, Malfoy!”  
  
Okay, so maybe Potter was angrier about their fight that morning than Draco thought. But he soldiered on. He wanted a repeat of last Friday. “I’d like to fuck _you_.”  
  
Harry loathed the way his body reacted to those words. “You think that you can just have me whenever you want me?” he asked incredulously. “Especially after what the fuck happened earlier?”  
  
Draco cocked his head and shrugged. “Yeah, as long as you want it, too. That _is_ the whole point of angry sex. The two involved have to be angry with each other.” He knew he sounded a bit condescending but he could not understand why Potter was refusing him. He would back off of course, if Potter said a hard, resounding no. But he hadn’t, yet.  
  
“I know how it works!” Harry shot. “And I’m not in the mood.” He turned his back to the blonde but arms snaked around him. He felt something hard on his butt and he stilled, stifling a moan when he realized what that was. He could have broken away if he wanted, but he was frozen. Draco’s hands were traveling over his waist, down his hips, to the bulge in his pants. His breath hitched when he felt one hand ghost over his dick, then cup and massage it.  
  
“See, you want me inside you as much as I want to be inside you,” Draco growled next to his ear. He should have let Harry go but he knew the Gryffindor was lying when he said he wasn’t in the mood. They may be enemies, but they knew each other so well that they could pick up on any slight change in posture or expression. And Draco knew the art of sex very well. He knew Harry has been as hard as he himself has been since their first romp.  
  
Harry let out a moan before using all of his will power to break free of the Slytherin’s grip, turning to glare at him. “No. You can’t attack me from behind and then expect sex later, no matter how much I want it. Piss off.” He half expected Malfoy to get mad and force it, but he didn’t. He stopped trying. After all, Harry had said the word ‘no’. Harry walked to the door, grabbed the doorknob, and shouted. He dropped his bag and cradled his hurt hand close to his body. It was burned.  
  
Draco leapt into action, his secret healer training coming in handy. He pulled out his wand and brought Harry’s hurt hand toward him. Harry tried to take his hand back but Draco kept a firm grip on his wrist. “Stop, you idiot. I’m going to heal it.”  
  
Harry whimpered in pain and relented. Draco muttered a few different healing spells and slowly but surely, the boils and the pain faded. “Thanks,” the Gryffindor mumbled. He was astounded at the gentleness and kindness Malfoy showed him, and therefore had no words.  
  
“You’re welcome.” Putting his wand away, Draco glowered at the door and remembered what Snape said before he left. “I suppose we both had to clean, though he only said we had to work together. The floor is already clean so what am I supposed to do?” he asked no one in particular. He sighed.  
  
“Maybe mop a small area and try the door,” Harry suggested quietly.  
  
Draco tried that, but the door burned his hand. He cursed and healed himself. “Fuck this. I don’t understand.”  
  
“We’re supposed to work together, which I refused right from the start. Maybe if we do something else in this room together, it’ll work?”   
  
The Slytherin raised his eyes to meet Harry’s. The look he gave took Harry’s breath away. “I know something we can work together on.”  
  
Harry’s body wanted this so badly and, up until this morning, so did he. “I hardly think that’ll open the door, Malfoy.”  
  
“Maybe not, but maybe it will. We’re both aggravated with each other and by fucking, we’ll be working together to get rid of that aggression.” He didn’t understand why Potter was resisting so much. Was he really that angry about this morning? “Why do you think I stunned you when your back was turned?”  
  
Harry gritted his teeth. “Because you’re an asshole.”  
  
“No, Scarhead. I am an asshole, yes, but I would never hit someone in the back for no reason. It was to force Snape to give me detention so I’d be put in here with you.”  
  
Harry’s eyes widened. “What?” was all he could get himself to say. Malfoy just wanted to be alone with him for a few hours? Had the Slytherin wanted sex with him again that much?  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and huffed. “Honestly, Potter. Must you make me spell everything out for you?”  
  
Harry blinked a few times. “So, you shot me in the back just to be put in detention with me… so you could fuck me?”  
  
“Yes, you idiot.”  
  
“Stop calling me an idiot!” Harry snapped.  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter’s tone. Apparently that was a nerve he’d been unknowingly hitting. He made a mental note of it. If he was to get what he wanted, he had to be somewhat compliant. “Yes, _Potter_ , I intentionally got myself detention with you to get a repeat of Friday. I’m stressed out and horny and I know you are, too. Snape wouldn’t have given me detention unless I did something drastic. Ergo, stunning you when your back was turned.”  
  
Harry was too aroused and too… well, stunned, to ignore the request. Malfoy had actually corrected himself and adhered to Harry’s wishes about not calling him an idiot. He needed to take his anger out on someone and it couldn’t be his friends, though he could feel his anger rapidly declining after learning why Malfoy did what he did. He ground his teeth together in anticipation, fully intending on biting Malfoy with them. Hard. The asshole would feel how much Harry hated him. “Fine.” He waved his wand. “ _Muffliato._ ”  
  
Draco grinned, but it fell as soon as he heard that word muttered from Potter’s lips. “What spell was that?” he asked, feigning ignorance. No one should know Severus’ spells outside of the innermost circle of death eaters.  
  
“It’s a silencing spell. Makes it so no one can hear us from the hallway.”  
  
“Where’d you learn it?”  
  
Harry looked frustrated. “From the same stupid textbook I saw the one I hurt you with written in. Why are you so interested in the spell?”  
  
Draco was shocked but didn’t show it on his face. Was _s_ _ectumsempra_ one of his godfather’s created curses that he hadn’t told Draco about? Were they really written in a book that has been easily accessible to students all this time? He pushed those questions from his mind and focused on the lust thrumming through his body. He shrugged. “Curiosity is all.” He advanced on the Gryffindor, pushing him against the wall and bringing their hips flush. He wasted no time, shamelessly rutting against Potter. He hadn’t missed the fact that the bruises he made three days ago weren’t there and his annoyance about it finally bubbled to the surface. “Healed your neck, I see.” He didn’t know why, but that bothered him. He could not help the sourness that crept into his voice.  
  
Harry welcomed the change in their dynamic; he was sick of arguing. And frankly, being shoved and ravaged against a wall was really hot. His hands roamed Malfoy’s body and un-tucked his shirt while the blonde pulled noises out of him he had no control over. The possessiveness hidden in Draco’s tone made Harry feel special. It sounded like he wasn’t happy that the bruises were gone. Harry took out his wand and canceled the glamour charm he had on his body. The bruises appeared and Draco leaned back to admire them. He took out his own wand and healed them himself.  
  
Harry blinked. “Why’d you do that?”  
  
“So I can put more on you. If I bite those, they’ll hurt and not in a good way.” Draco was pleased that Potter hadn’t healed his bruises. He didn’t know why and he wasn’t about to analyze it, so he busied himself with biting him and lifting his shirt up and off.  
  
Harry was shocked and a little touched that Malfoy didn’t want to hurt him. Well, he wanted to hurt him but in a pleasurable way. Harry hadn’t healed the bruises because he secretly liked how they looked when he saw himself in the mirror without his glamour. They weren’t like the bruises Vernon and Dudley gave him. These were pleasure marks, and they brought Harry good memories. They meant that someone took care in making him feel good instead of bad, and he didn’t want to get rid of them in case they didn’t have sex again anytime soon. It meant a lot to him, even though they were both just using each other’s bodies. Dudley used his body and never cared about his comfort at all. Then again, he also didn’t care that Harry didn’t consent. Draco did.  
  
He groaned into a particularly hard bite and was reminded of his promise to himself – make Draco feel how much he hated him. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel hatred right now. Still, he made good with his promise and bit down on Malfoy’s neck. The Slytherin went rigid and sucked in a high-pitched breath. “Do that again,” he ordered. Surprised, Harry moved his mouth to a different spot, gripped Draco’s body, rolled his hips, and bit him harder than before. “Fuck, Potter,” came a breathy moan.  
  
Harry almost grinned. “Speaking of fucking, how _are_ we going to do that in here?”  
  
“Few different ways.” Draco’s voice came out breathless. “Could do you against the wall. On a desk. In a chair.”  
  
“How would you hold me up?” Harry asked, trying to picture fucking against the wall.  
  
“You’d have to turn around. I can’t hold your weight.”  
  
Harry went rigid. Every muscle in his body tensed as fear gripped him.  He didn’t want Malfoy to know why. Words would not form and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to let flashbacks ruin this moment.  
  
Draco noticed that something was wrong. He stopped all movement and looked at Potter’s eyes, but the brunette was staring at his chest. “Are you okay?”  
  
Harry inhaled to start a sentence, but it came out broken. “I – yeah. Fine. Desk. No walls.” He swallowed.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes ever so slightly so he wouldn’t alarm Harry. He was starting to put things together in his mind and was pretty sure he just worked out a detail about Potter’s life that the Gryffindor wouldn’t want him to know. “We may be enemies, but I’ll never push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Green eyes met his, then. He saw gratitude and relief in them, and he wanted to torture and murder whoever raped Potter. He made up a fifth rule in his mind – no doing Potter from behind. He didn’t say it aloud because the other man would know Draco figured out why he reacted the way he did. “So, desk it is.”  
  
Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Every time he thought Malfoy couldn’t surprise him more, he goes and does so. His fears melted away. For some weird reason, Draco Malfoy, his rival, his enemy, made him feel safer than anyone else ever had. He nodded and was steered toward the closest desk. Draco transfigured it into a larger version and cast a cushioning charm so Harry could lie down on it. Harry posted his hands on the surface and lifted himself up.  
  
The next moments were a blur. Their clothing was scattered on the floor and on chairs. Harry’s legs were wrapped around Draco’s hips. There were hickeys forming all over both of their necks. If they kept rutting, Draco was going to lose it. He grabbed his wand and summoned something from his bag across the room. A small bottle of lube flew into his hand. He almost laughed at the look on Potter’s face.  
  
“You actually brought that with you?”  
  
“I told you I got this detention on purpose.” He coated his fingers and his dick with it.  
  
Harry shook his head. He had nothing to say, but he also didn’t have much time; Draco’s long fingers were between them, teasing him. Then one was inside him, pumping slowly at first while the other hand wrapped around Harry’s dick. Draco added a second, then a third. He was about to order Draco to fuck him but then the blonde withdrew his fingers. He wiped his hand on his shirt, then dropped it to the floor. He pulled Harry’s hips toward him. “Lie down.”  
  
Harry did as he was told. He was pulled further off the table but Draco had his hips in a solid hold, and his legs kept him in place. He hissed as he was filled and gripped the edges of the desk, one arm above his head, the other by his side. Just like last time, he noticed Draco check his face to see if he was in pain before moving inside him. “I’m fine. Go.”  
  
Draco slid his hands up Harry’s body as he leisurely thrust into him, bending over so Harry’s dick received stimulation from his abs. Harry’s hands found Draco’s waist and held on tight. They were so wound up and in need of release that they did not last long. It was shorter than their first time, but just as intense. Harry opened his eyes after he came, needing to see that rawness in Malfoy again. Sure enough, all traces of anger, defensiveness, arrogance, and hardness were gone. He was quickly becoming addicted to that look.  
  
They stayed in that position, both breathing heavily, for what felt like a long time. Neither of them knew. Draco pulled out and cleaned up their mess. He helped Harry sit up and felt a sting of guilt slice through him when the Gryffindor winced. “Did I hurt you?”  
  
The question struck Harry. Draco’s tone wasn’t apologetic or worried, but it still showed care. “No. Just sore.” He hopped off the desk and Draco transfigured it back. They dressed in silence and approached the door. “Here goes nothing.” Harry reached out and took hold of the doorknob, but it did not burn him. He let out a breath he’d been holding. “I can’t believe that ridiculous plan worked.”  
  
“Ridiculous, but logical,” Draco quipped. “Think first, act later. Unlike you Gryffindors.”  
  
Harry snorted. “That’s why you jumped me before thinking about the door, right?”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “This whole thing was planned from the moment you received detention this morning. The door was just a minor setback that played perfectly into my plans.”  
  
“Uh-huh. Speaking of which, I want to make something clear.” Draco raised an eyebrow when Harry turned to face him instead of opening the door. “When you suggested angry sex as an alternative to fighting, you specifically said imagine no more facial bruises, no more detentions, blahblah. So I mean it. Do not get me detention again.”  
  
“I didn’t get you detention, Potter. You got that all on your own with that _stupefy_.”  
  
Harry gritted his teeth. “Because you humiliated me by casting a jinx and laughing at me in front of the whole class!”  
  
“Because _you_ seemed to think that we needed to put on a show in front of said class. All I did was remind you of the rules, which you seemed to forget.”  
  
“I did not forget the rules!” Harry snapped. “I just remembered them the way _you_ stated them, and I assumed that meant we didn’t have to fight so much in class and in the halls.”  
  
“It’s just a way to relieve stress and aggression, Potter. It doesn’t mean we suddenly don’t hate each other.”  
  
“I never hated you.” Harry’s eyes widened; he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. _‘Shit.’_  
  
Draco’s eyes were also wide. Potter didn’t hate him? It had to be true, because the Gryffindor looked terrified about letting that slip. Dare Draco tell him that he never hated him, either? “Well, I _have_ to hate you.”  
  
Harry wasn’t an idiot, contrary to what Malfoy always said. He understood what the blonde meant by his words, he just couldn’t wrap his head around them.  
  
So Draco continued. “Look, we just had great sex and I don’t want to kill the high. Can we please leave tonight on a good note?”  
  
Harry sighed and let his hand drop from the doorknob. “Would it really kill you to be at least a little more civil when we’re not alone? Being not quite as much of a dick as you normally are won’t take away from your image, you know.” He didn't want to admit that when Draco was at his meanest, he reminded Harry of Dudley.  
  
Draco sighed, mimicking Harry’s. “No, I guess not.”  
  
Harry was not expecting him to agree. So he switched his tune. “We still have time, tonight, you know,” he said, half awkwardly and half bravely.  
  
Draco was surprised but looked pleased. Arousal began stirring in his gut again. “Do you have your cloak?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“How ‘bout a bed, this time?”

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	4. Head Under Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is Head Under Water by Flyleaf

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**  
  
**Thank you so much for the kudos and subscriptions! They mean a lot to me. <3**

* * *

  
Draco muttered the password to the Slytherin common room and slipped inside. Potter had oddly offered to help him get back to his dorm under the cloak but Draco refused. He did not, however, do it rudely as he normally would. That bloody Gryffindor was rubbing off on him. Why he even agreed to be a little nicer was beyond him. Oh, right. Sex. He rolled his eyes as the door closed behind him. There was no one in the common room, thank Merlin. The only people who stayed up this late were his friends and he did _not_ want to explain to them why he was just getting back at eleven when his detention was at seven thirty. More like he didn’t want to lie about it, because he’d never say he was fucking the lights out of Potter.  
  
A smirk adorned his face. He and Harry Potter were sleeping together. The world must be ending. He snorted. He couldn’t bring himself to be grossed out by it. It was hot _because_ it was so forbidden. There was also the fact that Potter was drop dead gorgeous, but Draco would never admit that to anyone. Ever. Not even to Theo, who was one of only three magical people who knew about Draco’s orientation. Hell, Theo won’t know about Potter at _all._ No one could. Besides, it was just sex so it didn’t matter. At the end of the year, Draco would go home and forget all about him. He wasn’t going back to school and Potter had a hit on his head. He was to be killed by Voldemort and that was that. Not that it mattered, he just didn’t like the idea of needless killing and he still, to this day, felt that it would be a better course of action to get Potter on their side instead of thoughtlessly killing him.  
  
He shook his head. No one seemed to listen to his ideas, anyway. He was just a kid, what did he know? All he had to do was fix the vanishing cabinet, he thought miserably. In any case, once Dumbledore was dead, their mission would be easier to bring about. People would come to see the truth about the headmaster. Maybe then, Voldemort would change his mind about Potter. He thought Tom was going into this blindly. Dumbledore wouldn’t die that easily. But again, the adults never listened to him so it was a waste of energy to even think about it.  
  
He’d much rather think about pounding into the Gryffindor he just left. Being his first in every way. Running his hands up those abs. Making him mewl and gasp. Biting that neck. Marking what was his. Well. His for the time being, anyway. He didn’t think he could get hard again after fucking Potter two times in a row, but he felt himself stirring and needed to change his thoughts once again. Tomorrow was the busiest day of the week and he needed rest. His mind wandered as he walked past Pansy, Daphne, Millicent, and Astrid’s room. He knew the other houses’ rooms were separated by gender and he didn’t understand it. If the sole reason was so there’d be no sex, why even create the Room of Requirement? And even if that didn’t exist, the founders were idiots if they thought teenagers wouldn’t find other places to do it, and ways around their architecture.  
  
Salazar Slytherin believed that unity and gender equality were far more important than trying to stop teenagers from having sex. He even put charms in place so no one could change the dorm layout or separate genders. Dumbledore had stopped trying ages ago, apparently. Though why he’d care about something like that but wouldn’t do anything about rape astounded and enraged Draco. He knew a few people who went to the headmaster with stories of rape or other sexual assault, which was how he knew Dumbledore didn’t care. His heart went out to the redhead from last year and the brunette from just two weeks ago, both of which he helped in the aftermath of their assaults. He took matters into his own hands. Needless to say, Marcus Flint avoided him at all cost and Cormac McLaggen was currently in the hospital wing.  
  
Thinking about that led his mind back to Potter. He felt fury bubble up as protectiveness curled around his heart. Potter was no porcelain doll and he would have stopped what they were doing had he been uncomfortable or scared, which was why Draco continued after his realization. The Gryffindor chose Draco to be his first, and he seemed flustered when Draco asked him about it last Friday. It looked and sounded like Potter wasn’t even going to tell him that he was a virgin if it wasn’t brought up, which was odd but at the same time made Draco feel almost proud in a way. And happy. He wasn’t sure why happiness seeped its way into his feelings about being Harry Potter’s first lay, and he wouldn’t attribute it to the fact that it was because Harry felt safe with him until a few months later.  
  
Draco came to the door to the room he shared with Theo, Blaise, and Greg. He truly hoped they were gone. It was late, but Blaise was usually off doing who knows what with his newest fling, Greg spent every waking moment with Vince, and Theo… well he wasn’t sure what Theo was up to now but usually he was chasing his prospective new lay and Draco wasn’t sure who that was, currently. Even though it was Monday night, his room was usually empty.  
  
So when he walked in, he did not expect to see Theo straddling and snogging the life out of someone on his bed.  
  
“I thought you didn’t do the boyfriend thing,” Draco quipped, shutting the door hard on purpose to startle Theo. He headed toward his bed and threw his bag down next to it. When he looked back up, his eyes widened in shock. The guy Theo had been straddling was now sitting up as the two had jumped apart at the noise. They stared at each other, neither willing to move, neither willing to speak.  
  
“Yes, well, I haven’t. At least not yet,” Theo said, trying to break the tension. “Er, Draco. You know Neville.”  
  
Draco blinked. “Quite.” He shook his head and broke eye contact. He sat on his bed, removed his shoes, and closed the drapes around him so he could change in privacy. And also so he wouldn’t have to continue that awkward moment with Longbottom.  
  
“Way to be rude,” he heard Theo comment. “Don’t mind him," Theo told Neville. "He’ll get used to you being here.”  
  
“You _do_ realize that you have an enormous castle with tons of places you can do that in rather than our room, right?” He heard Theo snort.  
  
“I do, but you’re usually back here a lot earlier and since you weren’t, I assumed you were off getting some tail like Blaise. So I decided to throw caution to the wind and brought Neville here to study.”  
  
“Last time I checked, snogging and heavy petting were not part of the Hogwarts curriculum.”  
  
“Hey, I never said we got any actual studying done before I jumped him.”  
  
Draco stuck his head out of the curtains  the foot of his bed atand surveyed them both, anger and frustration clear as day on his face. Neville was redder than Weasel ever got and Theo’s smirk was the closest to a smile Draco had ever seen when around other people their group didn’t know well. Theo took hold of Longbottom’s hand and rubbed his thumb over it. This snapped Neville out of it and he turned, shooting Theo a nervous smile. Theo nodded at him something silent that Neville understood. He looked up at Draco from across the room.  
  
“I, um…” Neville took a deep breath. “I really like him,” he blurted out. He seemed surprised by his own words. So did Theo.  
  
Draco just blinked. “Okay? And you’re telling me this, why?”  
  
He shrugged. “I dunno…” He thought for a moment. “No one knows I’m... gay,” Neville said quietly. “I didn’t… even… really.”  
  
“I’m not going to tell anyone, Longbottom.” Neville looked shocked but relieved. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually care about anyone else’s lives but those within my circle.” Draco glanced at Theo.  
  
“I really like him, too,” was Theo’s answer, and Draco knew everything Theo didn’t say in that simple but loaded sentence.  
  
Draco glowered. “I suppose I have to be nice to him, now.”  
  
Theo rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have been so horrid to him in the first place.” Neville looked stunned at the fact that a Slytherin was standing up for him against another Slytherin.  
  
Draco retreated back into his enclosed bed and violently shut the curtains. “If you’re going to do shit in the room, cast a blasted silencing charm and close your damn curtains so I don’t go deaf, blind, or die if I walk in on you.”  
  
“Yes, my king!” Theo took Neville’s face in his hand in a rare moment of affection, his usual Slytherin walls gone. He kissed him sweetly, loving the way he could melt the Gryffindor into a puddle of goo. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
“Yeah, see you,” Neville said breathlessly. He cast a disillusionment charm on himself and left.  
  
“Didn’t know he could do that spell.”  
  
“Draco!”  
  
Draco flicked his wand and the curtains opened, revealing him lying on his back in pajama bottoms and shirtless. His closest friends knew about the dark mark, so he didn’t have to hide it from them. “Yes?”  
  
“Why do you have to be such a dick?”  
  
“When have I ever not been a dick?”  
  
“In private when you're feeling affectionate.” Draco sent him a pointed look. “Yeah alright, you're almost always a dick. But you’ve always been a particular dick to Neville.”  
  
Draco shrugged. “You know the reasons. And you know why you shouldn’t be gallivanting with Gryffindors, especially one so close to the _Chosen One_.” He said the last words sarcastically and moved his eyes to focus on the canopy above. A niggling thought in the back of his mind reminded him that _he_ was gallivanting with a Gryffindor, the very one who was most important to the ‘light’ side in this war. He argued with himself that it was different because he didn’t have feelings for the git.  
  
“Yeah I do know the reasons, thanks, but my family is neutral.”  
  
“So are you saying you will remain neutral if you two fall in love?”  
  
Theo was silent for a few moments, but Draco let him think on that. “I don’t know,” he said softly.  
  
Draco let worried eyes fall on his best friend. “You wouldn’t fight against me, would you?” His voice was calm, but Theo heard the fear in it.  
  
“You know I would never, Draco. How could you ask me that?”  
  
He was hurt, Draco could tell. “Love does strange things to people, as does fear. You know that. Tom always said he’d never hurt a child and yet here we are with a hit on Potter’s head from the moment Tom heard the portion of the prophecy.” His friend’s eyes fell to the floor. Draco sat up when he addressed Theo with what he said next, wanting it to be taken seriously and honestly. “Theo. I don’t want you to get hurt.”  
  
Theo took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “I know. But I’m not going to give up on this, either. Whatever happens will happen. I’m allowed at least a few months of happiness before everything goes to shit, right?”  
  
Draco stared at him for a minute. Wasn’t he thinking the same thing about Potter? “Yeah. You are.” He felt the need to lighten the tone of the conversation. “So, Longbottom, huh? How’d _that_ happen?”  
  
Theo grinned, happy for the change. “I’ve had a crush on him for a while but didn’t know his sexuality. I thought recently, ah just go for it. Everyone knows I’m gay, anyway. So when Snape told us to partner up today, I jumped at the chance.” He scowled. “Until you and Potter ruined it. I stopped him in the hall after class and asked him to study with me tonight.”  
  
“Hey, that was Potter. I did the assignment as we were told to.”  
  
“Do you really expect me to believe that commotion was all Potter’s doing?” Theo lifted an eyebrow.  
  
“He started it,” Draco replied, and Theo knew he wouldn’t get further than that. “So how did you convince Longbottom to come into our dorm? He’s terrified of Slytherins.” He snorted.  
  
Theo smirked. “Persuasion. Sweet talking. Promises. He’d help me with herbology, I’d help him with potions.”  
  
“How much studying actually got done?”  
  
Theo’s smirk grew. “A little. I just couldn’t keep my hands off him. I read the signs, kissed him, he kissed back, and the rest was history. Would’ve done a bit more if you hadn’t shown up.”  
  
“Gross. Well I’m so terribly sorry for interrupting your little tryst by wanting to get to bed at a semi-reasonable hour.”  
  
“Oh please, you were getting back from a tryst of your own.”  
  
Draco looked affronted and tried to hide his embarrassment with anger. “I was not!”  
  
“Yeah?” Theo didn’t believe him. “Then why were you so late? If you’d been in that classroom with Potter this whole time, the entire school would’ve exploded. So, where were you?” He wiggled his eyebrows, something Draco found positively infuriating.  
  
“Fine, I was shagging some bloke’s brains out. Happy?” He could feel the heat on his cheeks and let his body lower back to the bed, unwilling and unable to look his friend in the eye any longer.  
  
“HA! I knew it. I can always pull the truth outta you.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
“So. It's been nearly four hours since your detention. Potter’s that good in bed, is he?”  
  
Draco bolted upright and sputtered. “Wha – _what?_ You think I was shagging _Potter?_ Are you out of your mind?” He did _not_ like the way Theo was grinning.  
  
“Who else would you shag? You’ve been obsessed with him since first year and I already know he's gay. I can sniff 'em out even if they don't know it about themselves. I think that's partly why I went for Neville.”  
  
“I have _not_ been obsessed with him!”  
  
“Oh yes you have.”  
  
“It was not Potter.”  
  
“Don’t lie to me, Draco.” There was a twinge of pain in Theo’s voice that caused guilt to shoot through Draco’s chest.  
  
The blonde swallowed. “Then don’t ask me things I have to lie about.”  
  
They eyed each other, a silent understanding growing between them. Theo would never bring this up or joke about it again and Draco wouldn’t outright lie about it again. It was too dangerous of a subject, too complicated. Too taboo. They both knew the truth and they both made a pact to never speak of it, even though they couldn’t hear each other. Draco and Theo often had these moments. They loved that they understood each other without having to say much at all. It was what made them so close.  
  
They nodded, said goodnight, and went to bed. And just like that, Draco's elation plummeted. He felt like he was soaring earlier. Now, he felt like his head was under water.

* * *

  
**Thank you so much for reading and for liking this story!**


	5. What I Like About You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title song is What I Like About You by 5 Seconds of Summer (I know this is a cover, but this is the version I'm listening to!)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**  
  
**Thanks for the likes, follows, and comments!**

* * *

One week had passed since that night. Draco was avoiding Harry because of the conversation he had with Theo, but he was finding it more and more difficult to do so. Now that he'd had a taste, it was hard to fast or cut it out completely. He was torn, but he did have time to think about things and he came to the same conclusion he had before; that it was just sex, nothing more. Once again, he convinced himself that this was a good idea and wouldn’t change anything. He forced all thoughts of the war out of his head and detached them from Potter. This helped him feel much more in control about their arrangement, Theo be damned. It wasn’t like Theo would bring this up again, anyway. They had a silent pact after all.  
  
Speaking of, Draco found Longbottom in their room a few times since last week. The git even had the nerve to start up polite conversation with him. He finally shouted at them to use the bloody Room of Requirement when he walked in on them yesterday on Theo’s bed with the curtains open and most of their clothes off. They had laughed. Longbottom laughed. He was no longer afraid of Draco, which unsettled the blonde. He didn’t like that. But the idiot made Theo happy, happier than Draco had ever seen him. So Draco put up with their lovey-dovey shenanigans, even though he thought their relationship was going way too fast. It wasn’t for him to judge, he was just worried for his friend. Dumbledore would not take kindly to Theo’s relationship with Neville should they go public.  
  
His stress had reached unbearable levels again and seeing Potter in DADA that morning, along with having to deal with Theo and Neville all week, drove him mad. He waited until dinner, then slipped a note to Potter in the corridor outside the Great Hall. The Gryffindor met him later that night near the Room of Requirement. Draco was barely able to keep his hands off him before shutting the door.

* * *

“Okay, Nev. Spill. Who is it?”  
  
Neville took a deep breath, not even remotely ready to tell Ginny about Theo. He asked her to meet him in his room after dinner to talk but he didn’t realize she’d already figured out why. She stunned him with her question. “Huh? Who?”  
  
“Who’ve you been seeing?”  
  
His jaw fell open. “How…”  
  
“No one knows you better than me,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re in love. So spill. Who is it?”  
  
“L-love? No, no.”  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know it when I see it, and you’re in deep.”  
  
“We’ve only been seeing each other a week!”  
  
“Love knows no limits when it recognizes itself in another. And how could you wait a whole week to tell me about this?” she whined.  
  
He blinked. “I… I don’t know what it is, it's just... really amazing. And I'm sorry! I was trying to take it all in and I was... embarrassed. I’m just, really happy.”  
  
“I can tell. Am I ever gonna find out who it is?”  
  
“I don’t want you to be upset with me.”  
  
She glared at him. “Who do you take me for? I’m your best friend! There is no one in the world I’d be upset about you dating except Voldemort. Now tell me, Neville Longbottom, or so help me Merlin.”  
  
He snorted, then swallowed his nerves. “Theo Nott.”  
  
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “I knew it!”  
  
“You… what?”  
  
“That you’re gay!” She squealed. “Nott is _hot_ , Nev! Go you! Tell me _everything._ And if you even ask me if I’m okay with you being gay, I swear I will hit you. Hard.”  
  
He laughed at her reaction as relief washed over him. He _was_ about to ask her if she was okay with his orientation, but he shut his mouth. She knew him too well. “I believe you.” She smirked and motioned for him to continue. His cheeks flushed. “He asked me to pair up in DADA last week and I couldn’t say no; I froze. We worked well together. The D.A. training and Theo’s encouragement helped get a wandless hex outta me.”  
  
“That’s _great_ , Nev!”  
  
He smiled. He loved how positive she always was. He felt lucky to be her friend and wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her. But he learned long ago to not voice those thoughts out loud because she’d give him an angry lecture on self-worth. “Thanks. It didn’t last long, though. That was when Harry and Malfoy got into it and both got detention. Snape made us switch partners. I got Malfoy, but you already heard all about that.”  
  
“I heard.” She cringed. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know he treats you badly.”  
  
Neville raised an eyebrow. He’s seen a different side to Malfoy recently but she didn’t know that yet, nor did she need to. Neville felt like he needed to keep that version of the Slytherin a secret. He felt the need to guard it, protect it. There had to be good reasons for Malfoy to keep that part of him secret and Neville wasn't going to be the one to unveil it. “He treats everyone badly but his friends.”  
  
She shifted uncomfortably on his bed. “Well… yes, and no.”  
  
Neville’s eyebrows shot into his hair. “Ginny, what are you not telling me?”  
  
“He helped out two people we know, last year and this year. I won’t reveal their secrets or who they are but it’s why McLaggen was in the hospital wing last week.”  
  
Neville’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “That was _Malfoy’s_ doing? What did Cormac do?”  
  
“He sexually assaulted someone. Can’t say more than that, sorry Nev. It’s not just Malfoy’s secret, you know?”  
  
“Yeah. I do.” He shook his head. “Geez.”  
  
A funny look graced her eyes. “I did notice he’s been nicer to you, though. Or, rather, not as mean.”  
  
Neville gulped. Then took a deep breath. “I’vebeeninhisroomafewtimes.”  
  
Ginny blinked. “Neville. Talk.”  
  
He put his now deeply red face in his hands. “Theo caught me after class and asked if I’d want to study together. I stammered a ‘sure’ and he said great, meet after dinner. So I did. And he took me to Slytherin.” Ginny squealed but let him finish. “I disillusioned myself and went to his room. No one was there. We were alone for hours. We started doing work but there was so much awkward tension… and he kept smiling at me… he must have read the signs better than I did because he… ah… he kissed me.” She squealed again. “It got… heated, fast…”  
  
She pulled his hands away from his face. “Come on, it’s _me_. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute. Tell me more.”  
  
He laughed nervously. “Well, ah, next thing I knew I was on my back and he was… on top of me and I… I am not giving you details.” She pouted. “Anyway! That's what Malfoy walked in on. The first time.”  
  
“Oh no.”  
  
“He didn’t kick me out, which I found odd. I was so embarrassed by the whole thing. I told him no one knew about me… not even I did until then… he made it sound like an insult because that’s Malfoy, but he assured me he wouldn’t tell anyone. It’s happened a few times since then.”  
  
“Wow. That's... big of him. Hm.” She seemed to do a bit of thinking but changed the subject. “Have you gone past kissing?”  
  
Neville flushed more and looked down at the bed, but he was grinning. And so was Ginny. “Not much, but it’s been intense. Last night... got heavier. Malfoy walked in on us in our skivvies and shrieked at us to go to the Room of Requirement.”  
  
Ginny laughed so hard that she fell over on his bed and snorted. Neville couldn’t help but join in. Malfoy’s face had been priceless, and completely worth the humiliation of the Slytherin seeing him like that with Theo. “Are you happy with how fast or slow things are going?”  
  
“I guess, though... they could go a bit faster...” he mumbled.  
  
She laughed. “So you'd have sex with him?”  
  
He coughed. “What?”  
  
“Sex, love. You're moving pretty fast, not that it's too fast. It seems like it's what you want and you're okay with it. You even want to move faster, you just said. So, sex. Have you even thought about it? You just found out you're gay. Sex between guys is a lot different than between a guy and a girl.”  
  
This was mortifying. Neville’s brain was short circuiting, as Seamus would say. “With as much as Dean and Shay talk about it in detail, I think I’m fully educated. Definitely don't need or want you giving me the talk.”  
  
She laughed. “Fair point, just making sure. Do you want to do it with him?”  
  
He had his face in his hands again. He mumbled something.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Yes,” he said louder. He dropped his hands. “Just not yet. I dunno why. I’ve never felt anything like this for anyone before.”  
  
“It’s okay, Neville. Just move at your own pace.”  
  
“Aren’t you gonna tell me to be careful and all that?”  
  
“No. You’re a big boy. Just make sure he feels the same way about you. If he hurts you, I’ll kill ‘im.”  
  
He smiled. “He does. At least he says so. It is going fast, isn't it?”  
  
“Whatever works for you is what you should do. All couples move at different paces. Just be sure to be clear if it’s going too fast for you.”  
  
“It’s not. I’m kind of in awe of it all. I’m so…”  
  
“In love?” she suggested, smirking.  
  
“No! I don’t know.” But his goofy grin said it all. “I barely know him. You can’t be in love when you don’t even know the person.”  
  
“Chemistry is what starts it all. You’ll be in love soon if you aren’t already. I’m really happy for you, Nev.”  
  
“Thanks, Gin. It means a lot.”  
  
“Are you gonna go public?”  
  
“He… wants to.”  
  
“But you don’t.”  
  
Neville thought about this for a few moments before answering. He didn’t, but he also did. He was afraid of what other people might think or say. He was afraid of becoming a target of even more bullying than he already had to deal with. But at the same time, the thought thrilled him. This person wanted him, really wanted him. Theo started it, he talked to Neville first, he kissed him first, he initiated everything first. But he also made sure Neville was okay with it all. He showed genuine care for Neville and it felt incredible to have someone like that in his life. “I don't know, not at first, but maybe? It’s been on my mind a lot. I’m already bullied a lot, Gin. This’ll give them more ammunition.”  
  
“Who the fuck cares about those idiots? They don’t know you and they only care about making other people’s lives miserable to make themselves feel better. I know it bothers you and that you're working on not letting it, but really. This is your happiness on the line. And Theo’s. If he wants to go public with you, that’s huge! Theodore Nott is a known playboy and he doesn’t do relationships. He must really like you a lot to want one with you. I think you should do what you’re comfortable with, but know that nothing worth doing is ever comfortable at first.”  
  
He shook his head as he stared at her, a soft smile forming on his face. “You’re a great friend, Gin. Thanks for the advice. I dunno what I'd do without you.”  
  
She sat up and hugged him. “You are, too. And you'd be fine, don’t knock yourself.” She pulled away and grinned. “There’s also the fact that by dating a Slytherin, and one of their most loved, you’ll have the protection of Slytherin. That is not a force anyone wants to reckon with. Even Snape would let up on you. Dating a snake has many perks.”  
  
He thought about that. Would they actually protect him from people bullying him about his sexuality just because he’s dating one of them? He hoped so. That would feel so nice. “I hope so.”  
  
“I know so.”  
  
They fell silent, simply taking in each other’s company. Ginny adored Neville because he was so easy to talk to, his thoughts and emotions went deeper than most people realized, he never saw her as Ron’s little sister or Harry’s friend, and he was also perfectly happy sitting with her without talking. Neville loved her because she was a great listener, snapped him out of his depressive funks, never let him talk badly about himself, and appreciated every aspect of his personality. They understood each other better than anyone else understood them, though Harry came very close. They knew things about each other that no one else did. It made them both feel special.  
  
“Hogsmeade’s coming up,” Ginny said, breaking the silence. “Why don’t you ask Theo on a date?”  
  
Neville’s heartbeat sped up. “I, yeah, maybe.”  
  
“It’s a great way to tell him you want to go public. If you decide you want to, I mean.”  
  
“I do… I really do. I want what other people have. I’m just scared. Not to mention... if it gets back to Gran... I'll be in deep. She'll marry me off to some pureblood witch faster than I can blink”  
  
“I know. But I’ll be right there alongside the Slytherins, breaking faces, kickin’ ass, and takin’ names. And your gran doesn't hold a candle to my mum. Mum would take you in in a heartbeat, Augusta Longbottom be damned.”  
  
He laughed. She always knew how to lighten him up. “Thanks, Gin.”

* * *

So that’s exactly what Neville did. After dinner in the Great Hall the next day, he sent a glance at Theo, caught his eye, and walked out of the Great Hall. He waited a few minutes, but Theo appeared with a smile.  
  
“Hey, what’s up?”  
  
“Can we talk?”  
  
Neville looked nervous, which concerned Theo. “Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah. Kitchens?” Theo nodded and off they went. Neville tickled the pear and led the Slytherin into a small room with a table, counters, and cabinets. It looked like a kitchenette with another door that led to the actual kitchens. Neville turned to face him and braced himself. “You wanted to be public with me, is that still…?”  
  
Theo smiled brightly. “Yeah. Still. Official, public, exclusive. All of it. I just didn’t want to push you; I’m sorry if I gave off the impression that I wasn’t serious.”  
  
“No, no, you didn’t. I’m just making sure.” He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “I have problems with self-worth. I really like you, it's just... you're popular, handsome, great at quidditch, gentle, patient... it's hard to believe that someone like you wants me.”  
  
Theo took hold of his face. He slowly and sweetly kissed him. “I know I don’t have the best track record. I don’t do relationships normally, but you’re different. I’d have a hard time believing that if I were in your shoes. I can only say that I’ve never felt this way about anyone. You’re the first person I’ve had romantic feelings for. I know it’s only been a week but I’m serious about you, Neville. And if I need to say that occasionally to remind you, or every single day, I will. You're sweet, kind, funny, passionate, and clearly something special to have turned my eye, and I don't mean that arrogantly. I've never been fond of commitment, but now it's all I want.”  
  
Neville was goo. Theo always turned him into goo. “Go with me to Hogsmeade?” he asked breathlessly. Theo’s smile widened. “Publicly, I mean. Date, as a date.” His cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  
  
Theo let out a fond chuckle and kissed him again. “Yes. I will go on a date with you.” He was giddy and trying to hide it but failing. His mouth hurt from how huge his smile was.  
  
Neville was over the moon, excited, nauseous, and nervous all at once. He couldn't believe that this was happening, or that someone wanted to be with him at all. He also didn't know where this courage was coming from but he liked it. “Hogsmeade is in two weeks, so, if you want, we could… I’m okay with… people knowing. Before then.”  
  
The Slytherin felt like his heart burst with an emotion he wasn’t familiar with. “Really? You’re sure you’re okay with that?”  
  
Neville nodded. “Yeah.” Deep breath. “Ginny talked me into it.”  
  
Theo’s brows rose. “Weasley? She knows about us?”  
  
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay. I had to tell someone, and she’s my best friend. She put a lot into perspective. Helped me see things clearly.”  
  
“Of course. What did she say? Or what were you worried about, rather?”  
  
Neville looked down at Theo’s chest and nibbled on the inside of his cheek. “Bullying. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I’m working on it.”  
  
Theo wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor and buried his face in Neville’s neck, kissing it. “Don’t worry about them. I’ll see to anyone who makes fun of you. And, you’re dating a Slytherin now. We’re not like the other houses. We look after our own first and foremost, so even those of us who used to bully you will now protect you. Haven’t you noticed a change in Draco? It’s reluctant, but it’s there.”  
  
Neville sighed and leaned into the kiss. His arms found their way around Theo’s ribs and linked behind him. He was amazed; Ginny was right. “The dynamic of your housemates is interesting. I don’t think I’ll ever get it.”  
  
Theo chuckled and placed more kisses on Neville’s neck before pulling away. “Most people don’t.”  
  
“Ginny said all that, about your house. It was part of what made me feel better about everything.”  
  
“She did? That’s impressive. She’s perceptive; we aren't all that obvious about it. Thank her for me, will you?”  
  
Neville chuckled. “Perceptive is not the word. She’s something else. I’ll tell her.”  
  
“Well, she is a Weasley. They’re usually either oblivious or incredibly in-tune.” Neville laughed. “Want to go somewhere more private?”  
  
The Gryffindor nodded, a confident smile on his face. “Not your room, this time. I can still hear Malfoy’s outraged shriek from two nights ago.”  
  
Theo guffawed. “He is such a drama queen. We still have two hours before curfew. Do you want to walk around the grounds or sneak off to the Room of Requirement?”  
  
“I have no classes tomorrow. Could we do… both?”  
  
Theo smirked. “Breaking the rules, you cheeky Gryffindor.”  
  
Neville held out his hand, and Theo took it. They walked out of the kitchens, down the corridor, and out the front doors, so immersed in each other that they barely noticed the gawks from other students as they passed.

* * *

**Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	6. Basket Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Sorry for the wait on this chapter; I had a very hard time writing the second half of it. It took me over a month. Every time I tried, I couldn't do it. I wrote a little a while ago and then stopped. But! Today, I talked to a friend about it and she helped me so much that I finished it just now. So here it is! I hope you enjoy. Thank you for the reviews/kudos/follows! <3 And thank you, Amanda, for helping me so much with this chapter! And my writing style in general, since you've been my friend and have been helping me with my writing for 13 years <3
> 
> The title is named after Basket Case by Green Day.

2nd week of April

* * *

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies_

* * *

  
For an entire week, Neville and Theo were the talk of the school. And now that they were open about their relationship, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They would walk down the hallways together, Theo would sporadically caress Neville’s face and Neville would blush, they lovingly touched each other whenever they could, goofy smiles adorned their faces whenever they stole glances, and they spent as much time as possible together. Whether in between classes, during free periods, in the library, or at meals, you would rarely see one without the other. They hadn’t kissed in public, yet; they were easing their way into that.  
  
Neville’s friends were supportive and loving when he gathered them in his room to give them the official news the night he and Theo decided to be out in the open. He didn’t know what he did to deserve them. Ron was the one he was most worried about, but while the redhead had been surprised, he hadn’t said anything except congratulations and, “At least it’s not Malfoy.” Hermione, Ginny, and Seamus kept squealing over how cute he and Theo were and Harry had hugged him. Dean and Seamus threw a party in the common room the very next day after dinner; they’d make up any reason to have a party but they insisted this was celebratory material. They even invited Theo, who came good-naturedly.  
  
For an entire week, the corridors, Great Hall, and dorms buzzed with chatter about them. There was no big announcement, so students who were not close to the pair were left to their imaginations. Of course they spread rumors and jumped to conclusions. It _was_ obvious that the two were dating and it was very public knowledge that Theo was gay, but the Slytherin’s reputation as a playboy was also well known and it had some up in arms about it. Particularly other boys he had slept with.  
  
There was also the fact that no one suspected Neville was gay, which was another topic entirely. Theo walked with him as much as possible because he wanted to, but it was also in case anyone decided to start anything with him. Neville appreciated it greatly. Not just because Theo was being protective, but also because it felt incredible for someone to care about him enough to be that protective. That and he just simply loved being public with the Slytherin. It was exhilarating and he enjoyed it far more than he expected he would. Seeing the smile on his boyfriend’s face – _boyfriend!_ – drove his heart wild.  
  
They hadn’t done much more than kissing in private at first, even when they were mostly naked. They went a little further every time they were together in Theo’s bed or in the Room of Requirement, but they moved at a snail’s pace. Theo was intent on Neville enjoying every little minute detail about seduction and sex, and he was taking as much time as he possibly could with this. Neville was grateful, but he was getting impatient. He found himself initiating most of the progression in the physical side of their relationship, surprising himself. And he was happier than he ever has been.  
  
However, coming out to everyone wasn’t all good. A lot of people took the news badly, including many Gryffindors. After a while, the happiness and excitement died down and the rumors took a turn. Some people started saying mean things about Neville and they caught on, spreading like wildfire. Soon, the Gryffindor was hearing students say he didn’t deserve Theo, ask each other how Theo was even attracted to such a dunce, and state things like Theo was only doing this because of a bet; no one in their right mind would date Neville Longbottom. At first, Neville didn’t let it get to him, surprisingly. But it started to. Ginny was good on her word and got away with punching a Ravenclaw; McGonagall claimed she didn’t see it happen even though she was in the vicinity. She did, however, hear what the Ravenclaw said about Neville and therefore gave the girl detention. As the professor swept past Ginny and Neville, she winked at them. Ginny got into a few scraps in the Gryffindor common room. Ron joined some of them. They _had_ gotten detention for that; McGonagall couldn’t let that one slide. But she gave the other students who were harassing Neville harsher detentions, and Ginny and Ron felt it was worth it. Especially when McGonagall scolded them privately about doing things detention-worthy in front of her. Then she said to protect Neville at all cost, and left it at that.  
  
As for the Slytherins, what Ginny and Theo said about them was proving to be true. There were a few who tormented Neville, but they made sure to do so in private and away from other Slytherins. Aside from that, whenever Neville was accosted by another student or if he passed by anyone whispering about him, those people found themselves victims of jinxes, hexes, or retaliated bullying. Neville noticed random Slytherin students following him, sneering at anyone who looked at him with anything less than friendliness. Malfoy was docking points left and right from students for whatever excuses he could come up with, but Neville saw a pattern; every single one of them were kids who had said something about or to the Gryffindor. He wasn’t sure what to do about all this attention and it was overwhelming him. He wondered if this was how Harry felt about his publicity. He was appreciative, though, and felt really strange about going from the most bullied kid in school to the most protected.  
  
The negativity calmed down a bit after everyone realized the Slytherins had taken Neville under their wing. It was hard to see at first because they were so stealthy about it, but the more it was noticed, the more people backed off. There were still quite a few homophobic kids who refused, of course, and a few who just got off on bullying. To make themselves feel better, Ginny would say. They would be dealt with privately. Neville didn’t know this, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt for him. So he focused on his homework, studying, and Theo, and tried to block out what was happening around him unless it involved his boyfriend or his friends.  
  
Somehow, at the end of their first week of dating, word got out that they were going on their first date in Hogsmeade next week. That started up a whole new bout of chatter. Poor Neville looked so stressed out one night in the Great Hall that Theo walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat with him. The way Theo instantly fell into friendly conversation with Neville’s friends made the Gryffindor feel lighter and happier. The stress lifted off his shoulders as he smiled at his beautiful boyfriend. At that moment, Theo caught his eye, smiled, and kissed him sweetly. He turned back to the conversation he had been having with Harry and Ron about quidditch as if nothing happened, as if everything was normal, as if the Great Hall hadn’t just gone silent. Suddenly, cheers and excited squeals erupted around them; Theo and Neville had a fanbase already. A chant began, started by Hufflepuff’s table. “Neo! Neo! Neo!” Apparently they had a ship name, too. They grinned at each other. Theo winked while Neville shook his head and put his burning face in his hands.  
  
From the other side of the room, Draco glanced at Dumbledore to see his reaction. Just as he thought, it wasn’t good. The headmaster always had either a twinkle in his eyes or a blank expression on his face. At inter-house unity and relationships, he always looked at happily. Right now, his face was blank. Draco would talk to Theo about it later. He felt uneasy about this and needed to warn his friend.

* * *

Neville received a memo during dinner that night after Theo left. It fluttered down next to his hand on the table and he opened it discreetly. Many of the Gryffindors had gone back to their common rooms; it was eight p.m. and there was no one around him except Ginny. His eyes widened as he read it. Ginny caught this and looked down at the piece of paper in his hands.  
  
“Why is Dumbledore requesting a meeting with you?” she asked rhetorically.  
  
“I have no idea.” He glanced at her and they both raised their eyebrows. “Could it be about Theo? Oh gods, oh Merlin, what if he disapproves? I can’t let this get back to Gran, not until I tell her myself.”  
  
“Neville, calm down. He probably wants to congratulate you! You know him and his quirkiness. He most likely wants to pick your brain about it and spout prose about house unity.”  
  
Neville nodded and forced himself to smile. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”  
  
She grinned and shoved him. “Go. I’ll see you back in the common room. I’ll be waiting up for you.”  
  
He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and nodded. He stood, grabbed his bag, and made his way to the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, tea in hand, when Neville walked in. “Ah, Mr. Longbottom. Have a seat. Take some tea, or a lemon drop.”  
  
Neville shook his head and politely declined. “No, thank you. I appreciate it, though.”  
  
“Oh come, now. You must feel frenzied after the buzz in the Great Hall today, and especially after the week you’ve had. Surely you could use a calming cuppa.”  
  
“I had tea at dinner, I’m alright. Thank you again, sir.” Neville sat at the desk and let his eyes come to rest on his knees after flitting about the room.  
  
To the world, Albus Dumbledore would have looked just fine with that answer. But inside, he was rather annoyed. He needed Neville to drink the tea, or at least eat one lemon drop. He needed to get veritaserum into the boy’s system somehow. He took the teapot and poured a cup for Neville anyway. In pureblood society, it would be incredibly rude to refuse a cup of tea that was poured for him and Albus knew how strict Neville’s grandmother was.  
  
Neville froze. He really didn’t want tea; he was too nervous to put anything else in his stomach. But his grandmother’s teachings shot through his memories, and he felt an overwhelming urge to drink, if only out of politeness. Yet something told him not to, so he avoided it as long as he could. It was odd for the headmaster to be so insisting about drinking the tea, and Neville was struck with the idea that it might be laced. Veritaserum, possibly. “Thank you very much, Professor. Maybe in a bit; I am rather nervous about this meeting.” He met the headmaster’s kind eyes.  
  
Albus nodded and smiled, making his eyes look friendly. “Yes, of course. So sorry to bother you during dinner; it was not my intention to ignite your nerves. Do not fret, dear boy. I simply wish to talk about your grades.”  
  
“My grades, sir?”  
  
“They have been rising, I’ve noticed.”  
  
Neville let out a shaky breath. “Oh! Yes.”  
  
Albus smiled genuinely, a purely physical, perfected smile that held no inner emotion to it. “It was wonderful news. You are doing better all around. Have you been doing anything different with your studies? Has Miss Granger been helping you?”  
  
Neville paused. He was happy to hear that the headmaster had gotten word of his grades, but how his grades were rising wasn’t something he was sure he should reveal. Though, maybe it would be good. Maybe Dumbledore would approve of his relationship with Theo. “No, she hasn’t. She has her hands too full with Ron and Harry.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been studying more, is all. Focusing on my homework. I have to say, Defense is much easier because of Harry’s teachings last year even though Snape – Professor Snape – is the teacher this year.”  
  
His eyes traveled back to the cup of tea in front of him. He swallowed nervously. Why did he feel so compelled to drink it? … Oh. _Oh_. He recognized this spell, before. His gran used it on him when he was a child to make him drink or eat whatever was put in front of him at meetings or galas because he was such a picky eater, and it was rude to refuse. This made his defenses go into overdrive, but he didn’t show it on his face. Instead, he forced his eyes up and smiled at the headmaster, waiting for his reply, and busied his thoughts with what Theo would do. What Ginny would do. Ginny’s advice in his head was full of fight or flight and that wasn’t helpful at the moment. She’d be able to get herself out of this, but her advice wouldn’t get him out. So he turned to Theo and imagined his boyfriend’s soothing voice telling him what to do.  
  
_‘Calm your heart, first. He will notice if you’re on to him. Take steady breaths, though not deep ones because he will suspect. Smile. Nod. Fake drink the tea with closed lips. Swallow. It will derail Dumbledore’s defenses and make him much more comfortable. This will help you figure out what he’s up to. Give him some answers and withhold others. Make him believe you are under whatever he has in that tea. It is most likely veritaserum, the go-to choice in situations such as this. He needs information, and it’s probably about me. He most likely doesn’t like that you are dating a Slytherin whose best friend is part of a family who used to be in Voldemort’s inner circle, and he probably believes the Malfoys still are. Play a Slytherin in this interaction. Use what you know about us against him. I have faith in you.’_  
  
Albus was not happy. This stupid boy was supposed to drink the damn tea. He wasn’t supposed to fight the Nudging spell. Albus composed himself and implemented his impeccable patience, wearing thin though it was. “Well then, good for you. I am very happy to hear that. I’ve always known you had great potential. I admit that Professor Snape is not the nicest teacher, but he does get the job done. He takes no nonsense, and for you to have endured years in his classroom, though with the occasional cauldron mishap, is admirable.”  
  
Neville was distracted by the compliment, but steeled himself. Theo’s advice, even though it wasn’t actually Theo who said it, helped Neville gain confidence. “Thank you, sir.” He decided to sip the tea, to encourage Dumbledore to get on with wherever he was going with this meeting. With closed lips, he ‘drank’ a few sips and swallowed, making the headmaster believe he had swallowed enough for the potion to take effect. Putting the cup down, he made a pleased face. “You’re right, that is calming. And delicious. Thank you.” He licked his lips, knowing that the amount of tea on them wouldn’t be enough to affect him.  
  
Albus nodded pleasantly. “You are very welcome, my dear boy.” It worked. Now all he had to do was wait a few moments for the veritaserum to kick in. “So, tell me about your tryst with the Slytherin boy, Theodore Nott. I must say, that is not a pairing I would have ever thought up!”  
  
Neville felt annoyance bubble in his chest, and, if anything, Dumbledore’s question gave him even _more_ confidence. “Forgive me for the correction, sir, but it is not a tryst. It’s a relationship.”  
  
Albus made himself look surprised. “Oh! Forgive this old man; I did not mean anything by that word. I have never seen Mr. Nott in a serious relationship, before. You must be special.”  
  
This unnerved Neville. That was exactly what Albus was going for, though Neville didn’t know that. He swallowed but remained as calm as he could. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t call myself special. But. We _are_ together, monogamously.”  
  
Dumbledore nodded and peered over his half-moon spectacles. He smiled gently. He needed to go about this with extreme caution. One false move could upset everything he’s been working toward, even though Neville was under the influence of veritaserum. Albus had to ask specific questions that Neville might have answered on his own, but perhaps with not as much truth, and he could not ask anything that Neville wouldn’t obviously answer. He could, however, get away with asking questions Neville would not expect himself to answer, if asked in the right way. “It is admirable, that is for sure. To trust so easily; a true Gryffindor trait. It is good to see you so happy, Neville. You have no idea just how special you are, do you?”  
  
Neville blinked in surprise. “I – what? No, I’m not special. I’m terrible with magic and have only been improving because Theo has been helping me.” There. Plant a piece of information he wouldn’t normally give to further Dumbledore’s belief that he swallowed the tea.  
  
Albus’ eyebrows rose. “Oh? So it is Mr. Nott who is the reason for your increased grades? Have you been helping him as well, then? His herbology grade has improved dramatically quite recently.”  
  
“Yes,” Neville said without hesitation.  
  
“Well then, that is very good of you. Though a bit dangerous, seeing who his closest friend is.” He gave Neville a sympathetic look and held up a hand when the boy opened his mouth to retort. “I know the Malfoys have reformed. But Mr. Longbottom, the fact remains that they were in Voldemort’s inner circle before you were even born. Now that Voldemort is back, there is a very high chance that Lucius is a Death Eater once again. In fact, I am rather sure of it. Draco is in a tough position, and I would never blame a child for the sins of their parents. I simply wish for you to be careful. This pairing with Mr. Nott is dangerous, no matter how you look at it.” He needed to plant that seed. He needed them to break up, but now was not the time to suggest it. He decided to change the subject to something that would distract Neville. Something with shock value. “You _are_ special, Mr. Longbottom, and I will tell you why. It is time you found out. You and Mr. Potter share a prophecy.” He knew this was dangerous territory, but he forged on. He needed Neville to know this.  
  
Neville blinked. He was getting angry at what was said about his relationship being dangerous, but then Dumbledore threw a bludger at him. “A prophecy? Me? And… Harry?”  
  
“There was a prophecy told to me by Professor Trelawny herself years ago, though she has no memory of it. Someone heard only part of this prophecy and reported it to Voldemort, the part which stated that neither he nor the child can live while the other survives. The reason for your Ministry escapade last year was because Voldemort wanted to hear it in its entirety. It is about a boy who would vanquish the dark lord, born as the seventh month dies to those who have thrice defied him. On your birthday. The birthday you share with Harry. Both of you have parents who have defied Voldemort three times. Voldemort decided it was Harry, which was why he went after him, killing James and Lily Potter in the process. However, the prophecy was not distinct enough and could just as easily be about you.”  
  
He paused to assess how Neville took that information. He was pleased to see how startled and frightened the Gryffindor looked. Albus was positive the prophecy was Harry’s, though there was still a slight chance that it could be Neville’s, which is why he kept such a close watch over the boy throughout the last sixteen years. But prophecies are fickle, and one choice in another direction could change them. This one had not changed, leading Dumbledore to believe that Harry was the boy in this prophecy. Though that possibly happened once Voldemort made the choice, and turned Harry into a horcrux accidentally. That had to be what the prophecy meant by one must die at the hand of the other, for Voldemort cannot reign supreme while Harry lived to fight him and Harry cannot live the peaceful life he craved while Voldemort lived to kill him. It appeared that Harry had to die for the soul piece within him to die. Albus believed that if Voldemort was the one to do it, and if Harry was the last horcrux at the time, it might backfire and kill Tom in the process. If not, then he would be easily destroyed anyway. For Albus to get want he wanted, he needed both Neville and Harry to be compliant and Neville needed to think that he could be the chosen one.  
  
“You’re saying that… I could be the… one to defeat Voldemort?”  
  
“It is possible, and it is of the utmost importance that you do not reveal this to anyone. _Anyone._ This cannot get back to Voldemort by any means. Understand?” He peered over his half moon spectacles to drive that point home.  
  
Neville’s heart was beating rather rapidly. He would, of course, tell Ginny. But… well, if he did, she’d have to tell Harry. And then what? What would happen? This was such a precarious position he was in. Maybe he really shouldn’t tell anyone, even though this was far too large of a secret for him to handle by himself. He heard Theo’s voice in his head telling him he could do it. He nodded. “Yes. I understand.”  
  
Albus softened his face. “Mr. Longbottom – Neville – I have faith in you. I have faith in Harry. As long as you two are by my side and helping each other, fighting for the _right_ side, we will be invincible. No matter which one of you the prophecy is properly about, you are both on the same side fighting together. That is what will win us this war.”  
  
This time, Neville did take a deep, shaky breath. He fake-drank more tea while he thought hard about the bomb that was just dropped on him. “I was in The D.A. I will always stand by Harry, you, and the Order. I am not a fighter, Professor. It isn’t in me. But I will do my best.”  
  
It was the truth, after all. Well, partially. He really did stand by Harry and would go wherever Harry went, even if Harry turned dark. Neville trusted his friend more than anything, and he knew that Ginny would follow Harry as well. There was also the fact that Ginny told him everything about when she was possessed by Voldemort, including that she truly did not believe that Tom Riddle was the one who set the basilisk loose on the school to kill muggleborn students. Neville thought that was a bit far-fetched and that she may have blindly believed Tom when he told her that, but she insisted. And who was he to deny her? If he told anyone but Ginny about his meeting with Dumbledore, they’d think he was barking mad. And, what if she was right? He was the only person in the universe who knew that Ginny befriended the younger Tom Riddle and that she was devastated at the loss of that friendship when the diary was destroyed. It was a crazy thought, but what if Tom, Voldemort, wasn’t actually the bad guy, here? Neville mentally shook his head free. He could not go down that road, right now.  
  
While he told Dumbledore a mostly full truth, it was also a facade to hide how he was feeling and thinking things like what if Voldemort was good and Dumbledore was the evil one would cause his mask to slip. His gut was in shambles, his nerves were fried. There was a prophecy about killing Voldemort and he could be the one in it instead of Harry. Dumbledore thought it was dangerous for him to be with Theo. Dumbledore tried to drug him with veritaserum. What was going on? Something was missing, here. There had to be more. What would Theo do?  
  
_‘Press him for more information. Make him give it to you. I believe in you. You’re more intelligent than you think.’_  
  
Dumbledore was pleased with Neville’s answer, particularly with the boy’s obvious insecurities and lack of self-confidence. Those ingredients made someone moldable and agreeable, easy to manipulate. “Very good, my boy. But I think that you will find that you _are_ a fighter, possibly a rather good one. Every Gryffindor turns out to be one, no matter how much they believe they aren’t. You’ll see.”  
  
“Then, if I am a fighter, I’ll fight for my relationship with Theo.” Neville paused to assess the headmaster’s expression. It wasn’t a good thing to say, apparently, which is what _made_ it a good thing to say. “I mean, if Gryffindors are fighters and believe in hope, then why should I just assume our relationship will go sour? Why not fight for it? Right, Professor?” He made sure he looked and sounded hopeful. He was damned sure that he’d never let Theo go without a fight, but he wasn’t about to let Dumbledore know that. He was also fishing because he suspected that this meeting was about him and Theo.  
  
Albus sighed. Now was the time to talk about the relationship. He put on his best sympathetic face and forged on. “Neville, bravery and courage are admirable and should be used in every possible way that they can be. However, there are times when we should rein them in, times when we should use logic instead. When we should think with our heads, not our hearts. I understand how difficult that is, as Gryffindors operate from our hearts first and foremost. As I said before, I do not blame children for the sins of their parents. Nor will I judge them. But logic insists that I be wary of the children of Death Eaters. You cannot deny the odds that those people may grow up to become followers of Voldemort, or Death Eaters themselves if they are not already. The Notts are neutral and always have been. However, Theodore’s friendship, or shall I call it brotherhood, with Draco Malfoy is not a bond that can be broken. I have seen it before, in myself and Gellert Grindelwald. I did have to fight him in the end, but I had to force myself to and it killed a part of myself that I can never get back. In the case of Mr. Nott and Mr. Malfoy, it is different. I was light. Gellert was dark. Mr. Nott is neutral, not light. He will not fight against Mr. Malfoy and will most likely join the dark because of their bond should Mr. Malfoy choose to go down that route. But you are light, and you will have to fight against him when he, almost inevitably, turns dark.”  
  
Albus let this sink in for a few moments. His eyes traveled to the nearly untouched tea, then back to Neville. Neville knew he had to drink some of it to keep up this facade. An unfortunate part of his childhood had finally come in handy; his veritaserum tolerance. He was not immune, as no one could be, but he had built up a tolerance for it due to his grandmother’s borderline-abusive training. The time had come to actually drink some. So he did, a few real sips to drain the cup a bit and keep Dumbledore happy. He took shaky breaths and sipped some more while staring off into nothingness, to the left of the headmaster. This was a lot to take in, and he had nothing to say yet.  
  
“I know this is new and exciting. I know this is your very first relationship, and that it is progressing. I know how wonderful it must feel like to be the first real relationship he has had. But, the truth is, and forgive my bluntness, that you will never measure up to Draco Malfoy in Mr. Nott’s eyes. It pains me to say this, truly. But brotherhood is more important than romance, and no matter how much he cares for you, even if it turns into love, he will always choose Mr. Malfoy over you. I want to spare you that pain, but I can’t do anything other than give you advice. There were people who tried to warn me about Gellert, but the problem I was in… to put it plainly and reveal my secret… was that Gellert was both brotherhood and romance to me. It was the reason why it was so difficult for me to see how evil he had become over time, and why it was even harder for me to fight him. It was not the loss of romance that crippled me. It was the loss of brotherhood. Do not make the mistake of believing you are equal to or more than Mr. Malfoy to Mr. Nott. Of course, if you do get hurt, my door is always open and I will always be here to advise you and listen to you. My final advice for you is break up with Mr. Nott before you are in too deep. Break it off with him by using logic instead of your heart. This relationship is bad for you and for Harry. Do it before you go on your date, alright?”  
  
Neville swallowed. He had not looked up from the wall behind Dumbledore the entire time the headmaster was talking. He did, now, though whether it was of his own volition or the veritaserum forcing him to, he did not know. Either way, he felt the effects fighting his will power. He had to be careful. But everything Dumbledore had said was fighting his will power. His heart. Logic _and_ his heart were waging a war against his very soul. They had turned on him.  
  
“I…” he began. He hesitated, fighting the words that threatened to spill from his mouth. “I will…” He managed to fight off the last word. ‘Not.’ He would not break up with Theo. Not for this man. Not for anyone. He did have hope, and he _was_ a fighter. Though what Dumbledore said was heart-wrenching and compellingly believable, preying on his insecurities, Neville had faith in people more than anything. Plus, the more he thought about everything that happened here in this office tonight, the more he felt himself pulling away from the man he revered for so many years. He should have known not to trust Dumbledore simply because his grandmother worshiped him. Anyone his gran liked was immediate grounds for Neville to dislike them, and not trust them.  
  
But Dumbledore felt different. He was a hero, the leader of the light. Neville’s hero worship for him grew when Harry Potter joined his side. Now he wasn’t so sure they should be following this man. The headmaster had just revealed so many things wrong with him in this one meeting that it had Neville reeling. He wanted to talk to Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, but would they even believe him? Would they think he’s deranged, turned by Theo Nott to the dark side? Would they tell Dumbledore? What would he do, then? He’d be thrown into St. Mungo’s and forgotten by the world, just like his parents. Not by Ginny, his mind reminded him. She would believe him. She’d never forget him.  
  
“Good. You are making the right choice, Neville. I am sorry to have troubled you.”  
  
Neville fought the intense urge to say, ‘ _You_ made the _wrong_ choice, and like hell you’re sorry.’ Instead, he forced out, “It is alright, Professor. May I go?”  
  
Albus nodded. “Yes. Have a good night. You’ll feel better soon, once the pain wears off. I promise.”  
  
Neville numbly and silently walked out of the room, down the corridor, and toward the dungeons, barely realizing where he was going until he was already standing outside the door to the stairs that descended into Slytherin. He leaned his back against the wall, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared at the floor, intent on waiting for Theo to be done with his astronomy class.

* * *

 


	7. You Taught Me How To Be Brave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback on the last chapter! Wow. It means a lot to me. Half of this chapter was already written, but the rest of it flowed right outta me as soon as the Dumbledore/Neville scene was done. That scene gave me writer's block for over a month! I'm so happy that's over with. Anyway, here's chapter 7! 
> 
> Chapter name is from the song Brave by Zayde Wolf

“Why are _you_ here, Longbottom? Waiting for your lover boy?”  
  
Neville didn’t answer. He felt the tug of veritaserum, but his tolerance to it and the heavy weight of depression were helping him keep his mouth shut.  
  
“He’s only using you, you know. There’s no way in Hell that Nott would actually have feelings for you. Get out of here, go back to your common room.”  
  
That one was easy to avoid answering; he didn’t have an answer.  
  
“Oy, Longbottom! Look at me when I’m speaking to you!”  
  
Neville had been standing next to the entrance of the corridor to Slytherin for all of ten minutes before this fourth year started on him. Other Slytherins walked right on by and either ignored him, nodded, or said hello. His hands were still in his pockets, his shoulders still pulled up to his ears, his mind still reeling. His face held a seemingly vacant expression that, to a trained eye, was filled with pain.  
  
Draco Malfoy saw this pain as he approached and instantly knew that something more than low-level bullying caused it; Longbottom had never looked this serious, before. The Slytherin who was in Longbottom’s space was a dick who didn’t know the reality of the war, or who Voldemort and Dumbledore really were. He was from a family who thought that Voldemort was everything Dumbledore said he was, what the world thought he was. A family who was near the bottom of the purebloods in rank but acted like they were at the top. They were the worst of the worst, and lied about having members in the Death Eaters. Which infuriated any and all of those who did have Death Eaters in their families. Including Voldemort, himself.  
  
Draco was particularly annoyed because all he wanted to do after the long day he had was get a good night's sleep. He and Blaise stayed in the Great Hall after dinner to get some homework done, but Blaise gave up because he couldn’t concentrate and went to their dorm. Draco was quite happy with how much work he got done that night, but now he had to deal with Elliott Macnair, who he knew would cause problems once Draco reprimanded him; the Macnairs always did have a flair for dramatics.  
  
“Macnair!” Neville recognized Malfoy’s voice but kept his gaze on the floor. “Thirty points from Slytherin!” This did make Neville look up.  
  
The boy named Macnair was livid. “I heard you were docking points recently, even from Slytherin. Was it all because of this idiot?”  
  
“This ‘idiot’ is Theodore Nott’s boyfriend and you will respect him as such. On that note, bullying is a punishable offense and I will dock points for it whenever I see it occurring.” He _hated_ taking points away from his house, but he had to as a prefect and especially in this case.  
  
Neville raised both eyebrows. Malfoy seemed cool and collected, but having seen him in private many times in the past two weeks, Neville could already tell the differences between his moods and his facades. The blonde was angry.  
  
“I only give respect when respect is deserved,” Macnair sneered. “Not when it is demanded of me. And if you find bullying so offensive, then shouldn’t you be paying for all the years of it that you inflicted on Longbottom, Potter, Weasley, Granger, and any and all others?”  
  
Draco closed the space between them, forcing Macnair to turn. It would have shown weakness if the younger boy refused to face him. “I _am_ paying for it by having to defend Longbottom. Do not question a prefect, Macnair. Especially a Slytherin one.” He leaned forward and bent to the other boy’s level. “Here’s a piece of advice. You know our house’s rules. Follow them. If you don’t, you risk turning your entire house against you. Do you really want to do that?”  
  
Neville’s heart fell further to his feet, if that was even possible. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up about Draco defending him. Dumbledore’s words rang like a gong in his head. _‘Do not make the mistake of believing you are equal to or more than Mr. Malfoy to Mr. Nott.’_ He never did, but he did wish for Draco to like him. At first, it was simply because he’s Theo’s best friend, but it felt different now. Neville grew to like him and was even protective of him, in a weird way. He knew there was something there that Malfoy wasn’t showing the world, and he wanted to be one of the few to see it. But that wouldn’t happen. Malfoy hated him, for reasons he could not understand.  
  
Macnair was losing his nerve and becoming defensive. “This is different! He’s _Longbottom!_ No one but a few stupid Gryffindors like him!”  
  
Neville felt himself involuntarily go to nod his agreement to that statement, but he fought it off.  
  
Draco’s mouth curled into a sneer. He refused to acknowledge that a portion of his anger was because he had become protective of the git dating his best friend. “It isn’t about liking someone. It’s about sticking together. It’s about loyalty to your fellow housemates. If you go against Theo, you go against the rules of our house, and therefore, everyone in it.”  
  
“He’s a blood traitor, Malfoy. Do you really want this,” he gestured between all three of them, “getting back to the wrong ears?” he threatened, thinking it might scare Draco for some reason.  
  
Draco leaned further forward so that his nose was almost touching Macnair’s, forcing the boy to take a step back. A slip up for a Slytherin. “I _am_ the wrong ears.”  
  
Neville’s heart skipped a beat. Did that mean… Was Dumbledore right?  
  
The fourth year looked both scared and skeptical at Malfoy’s venomous words. “Prove it,” he taunted.  
  
Draco tilted his head and stared at the kid for a few moments. Then he stood up straight. “You are either brave or stupid. I don’t need to prove anything to you, and I have no desire to. Come on, Longbottom. You can wait for Theo in my room.”  
  
Neville moved to follow Draco without questioning him, or questioning himself. He was surprised that the very real possibility of Draco already being a Death Eater, or at least that his father was one again, didn’t bother him all that much. What bothered him was the reality the headmaster showed him tonight. The side of Albus Dumbledore that was maniacal, manipulative, and his willingness to drug a student. If that wasn’t evil, then Neville needed to educate himself. He needed to find out the truth.  
  
“You can’t seriously be taking him into our house!”  
  
Draco stopped and turned to glare at the kid. Neville paused behind him, his back still to Macnair. “Oh, I am very serious.” His eyes challenged the idiot.  
  
“If you can’t prove that you are the wrong ears, it just means you’re a weak-willed nobody. But everyone knows the Malfoys are weak, so that’s no surprise. I don’t take orders from people who can’t or won’t prove their loyalties. And since you’re clearly not loyal to the Dark Lord, I have no reason to believe anything you say.”  
  
Draco shook his head incredulously and did not rise to the bait. He knew the truth and that’s what mattered. “Whatever, kid. Believe what you want, but stay away from Longbottom or you will see exactly how wrong you are about everything.”  
  
Macnair glanced up and down the corridor. Before any of them could blink, he had a body bind curse on Draco. Neville jumped, startled at the sudden change in their interaction. He whipped out his wand and began to shout expelliarmus, but Macnair stunned him. He fell over and as he was getting up, he saw the fourth year shove Draco’s sleeve up. Both Neville and Macnair gasped, neither one of them expecting to see the Dark Mark on Draco’s skin.  
  
Draco felt exposed, vulnerable, humiliated, and panicked; the inability to move always threw him into panic mode. He should have been able to stop the curse, or at least see it coming. Potter already knew about his mark. He had _not_ wanted Longbottom to find out. But what was done was done, and he brought his heart rate down with thoughts of instilling fear in the idiot in front of him. He reveled in the terror that was rolling off Macnair and tried to ignore the knot of anxiety that formed in his chest.  
  
“S-sorry, I, I’ll respect Longbottom from now on. Please don’t, don’t let it get back to our lord.” He canceled his curse.  
  
As soon as he could move again, Draco grabbed the front of Macnair’s robes, whirled him around, and slammed him against the wall. “ _Our_ lord? You don’t even know who he is, where he is, what he actually stands for, or what he believes in. He doesn’t want your family as followers; you are the lowest of low. Unworthy of his attention or time. Tell your idiot father to stop claiming he’s a Death Eater, or there will be consequences. Now get out of my sight.” He let go and stood back.  
  
The terrified kid burst through the door and disappeared down the corridor. Draco pulled his sleeve down and tentatively glanced at Longbottom. Again, he looked collected and unaffected, but Neville saw the nervousness in his eyes. Neville was so shocked, he didn’t know what to do. Or say. Or think. This whole time, Draco Malfoy had been a Death Eater. The last two weeks, Neville has been spending time with a Death Eater. But, Malfoy had been almost kind to him. He had been protecting him. He had even talked to him, albeit in very short and clipped conversations. And, he was Theo’s best friend. How could Draco be a bad person after all of that?  
  
“Cat got your tongue, Longbottom?” When Neville didn’t say anything, Draco continued. “Follow me. And be quiet until we get to my room.” He descended into the tunnel and Neville followed, still stunned and unable to form sentences even if he tried. That was saying something, for the veritaserum effects had only grown stronger since he left Dumbledore’s office. They walked into Slytherin’s common room after Malfoy said the password without caring that Neville heard it. The Gryffindor knew it, anyway, thanks to Theo. There weren’t a lot of students in the common room but those who were there either raised eyebrows or ignored Neville. Draco led him to his room. Blaise Zabini was there. “Blaise, privacy please.”  
  
The other sixth year rolled his eyes, grabbed his bag, and left, muttering something about Draco owing him and being kicked out of his own room. Draco shot him an apologetic look just before Blaise left. “Sorry. It’s important. Thank you.” The blonde turned to Neville when the door closed behind his friend. “Potter knows, so have fun telling him as I know you will.”  
  
That was enough to shock the Gryffindor’s brain back into working order. “What? Harry knows about this? How?”  
  
“Now _that_ is none of your business. Theo knows, too, so keep your mouth shut or you could put him in danger. His family is neutral and they are strict about it. He isn’t allowed to cavort with Death Eaters or their children. They don’t know he and I are friends. There are forces at play that you don’t understand and information you have wrong.”  
  
“What… am I… supposed to believe?” Neville asked softly. “If what I know is wrong, then, what’s right? Why doesn’t Harry know the truth, if the truth he knows is wrong?”  
  
Draco eyed him warily. He had said too much, already. However… something in the back of his mind told him to plant seeds. That maybe, one day, Tom would realize that he’d gain more followers if he decided to not kill Potter. To get Potter on his side, instead. For a brief moment, Draco felt like it was the right thing to do. Plant the seeds and disobey what his parents told him years ago. “Even Voldemort would protect you and your family because of your relationship with Theo. Slytherins take our rules very seriously. Most of us, anyway.”  
  
Neville could not comprehend that. It wasn’t an answer to any of his questions, but in a way, it was more jarring. More unbelievable. And stunning, that Draco Malfoy was telling him these things. He was stuck between shock and disbelief. His boyfriend knew all along that Malfoy was a Death Eater. He let Neville, friends with Harry Potter, be in the same space as a Death Eater. He didn’t tell Neville anything about Voldemort, or that he knew other Death Eaters. And how did Harry know that Malfoy had the Dark Mark? Why didn’t Harry do anything about it? If Harry didn’t take action, that must mean that there was much more to Malfoy and all of this than Neville knew, just as Malfoy explained. There had to be good reasons for all of his questions.  
  
He shook his head and sat heavily on Theo’s bed. “Really? He would really protect me, son of the couple Bellatrix Lestrange tortured, friend of Harry Potter, the boy he’s been trying to kill since Harry was a baby?”  
  
Draco internally winced at the mention of Neville’s parents. That was another lie Dumbledore told the world. Or, rather, it was information he did _not_ tell the world. Neville obviously didn’t know what his parents were truly like, or what they did to Bellatrix all those years ago. “Yes. Even though Theo’s family is neutral in the war. Like I said, there is a lot you don’t know.”  
  
Neville was quiet for a moment. “Would he protect Harry if Harry started dating a Slytherin?”  
  
Draco paused. That was a good question. “I don’t know the answer to that. There are reasons why he wants to kill Potter, reasons I don’t know. Things might change, they might not. There is more at stake than one boy’s life. I can’t say anymore, except…” He wanted to spill it all. Even to Longbottom. It was so unlike him to even have said as much as he did, and he could see his own surprise in himself mirrored on Longbottom’s face.  
  
“Except what, Malfoy?” Neville urged. “Please tell me. Please trust me. I want to know the truth.” _‘I want to tell him about that goddamn prophecy so badly.’_  
  
Draco flashed a glare his way, making Neville flinch. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that we are becoming friends.” He cleared his face of any animosity when he saw the look of pain on the Gryffindor's face.  
  
Neville winced and looked down at his knees. That hurt. He thought that maybe they could be civil with each other one day, but he realized that all he really was to Malfoy was a best friend’s boyfriend. And that’s all he’d ever be. Dumbledore’s words rang in his head, again. _‘You will never measure up to Draco Malfoy in Theodore Nott’s eyes.’_ Why was it so hard for Draco to like him? What was he hiding? Why was it so painful when he said that? Neville’s chest hurt, and he struggled to find words. As soon as they came to him, they spilled out as if he had no control over them.  
  
“I’m not. I know how unworthy I am and how much most people hate me, believe me. Though I don’t know why. I’m not stupid, no matter what others think; I’d never dream of becoming your friend. I know how impossible that is, even though I have no idea why so many people, including yourself, say things about me and think I don’t have feelings. Or, you all know I have them and you just don’t care.” It was Draco’s turn to wince, though Neville didn’t see it. “I haven’t told anyone anything about you, by the way,” he said quieter. “About how much you care for the people you love. And I won’t.”  
  
Draco hated the guilt that stabbed him in the gut at the pain in Neville’s voice and the look on his face, from what Draco could see of his profile. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, pushing back the bit that fell over his eyes. “But?”  
  
“But nothing. I just… it would be nice to… I dunno. Not hear from you what I hear all day every day from everyone else… Never mind. It’s stupid.” _‘Like me.’_ “Forget it.”  
  
Draco swallowed his guilt and leaned against the foot of his bed. Was he really that bad? First Potter asked him to tone it down, now Longbottom. Was his mask so much a part of him that it became more than a mask right under his own nose? He was not used to feeling badly for the way he treated people. He hated this. But he also hated realizing just how much his words have hurt someone over the years. “You’re not stupid.”  
  
Neville blinked. Did Malfoy really just say that? He scrunched his face in confusion and looked up to his left, braving Malfoy’s eyes. “What?”  
  
The grey eyes rolled. “I am not repeating that.”  
  
Neville’s pain ebbed and he smiled. It was small, but it was a smile. Draco’s few words sparked hope in Neville’s heart and proved once again that there was more to the Slytherin than what met the eye. “Thanks, Malfoy.”  
  
“Bah. Forget it ever happened.” The bloody Gryffindor’s smile widened. Bloody hell. “No, really. Forget it happened,” he grumbled. He didn’t want to say more but he felt the words coming, anyway. He felt the urge to protect this stupid git. ‘ _He’s not stupid.’_ “Listen to me. Don’t trust Dumbledore. And forget you ever heard that come from me. I know you will probably go against my advice because you know I’m a Death Eater. If you weren’t my best friend’s boyfriend, and if he wasn’t serious about you, I wouldn’t waste any time on you or let you see any deeper than what I show to the world. But being with Theo, and how serious he is about you, trumps you being Potter’s friend. It trumps a lot of things. That said, I felt the need to warn you about the headmaster. He is not what he seems.” _‘Nothing about this war is what it seems,’_ was what he wanted to say.  
  
This struck Neville hard. If this conversation happened before his meeting with Dumbledore, he’d have gotten furious and would have righteously gone to Harry. But everything seemed to be falling apart, and falling into place at the same time. His vision of what Albus Dumbledore was and what he stood for shattered in his mind that night. The Dumbledore he thought he knew would not have tried to drug him with veritaserum, confronted him about his relationship, or told him to break up with Nott.  
  
It left him wondering yet again if the side Dumbledore and the Order were on really was the good side… or the bad.  
  
“I’m… not sure I do trust him. In fact, no. No I don’t. Not anymore.” He didn’t mean to say that, but he had very little control over the veritaserum in his system, now.  
  
Draco’s eyebrows flew into his hairline. That was shocking. “Why is that?”  
  
“He summoned me to his office, tonight. Towards the end of dinner.”  
  
Well, shit. Draco studied him for a few long moments before responding to that. He had not thought that Dumbledore would act this quickly. “That’s why you looked so upset back there.” It wasn’t a question. Neville nodded, looking at his knees again. “I thought you worshiped him.”  
  
“I did. But a lot was made clear to me, tonight.”  
  
“What did he say?”  
  
Neville couldn’t believe that Malfoy was actually asking him to speak, to tell him about his talk with the headmaster. It was odd, and he’d have to tread carefully. But this was exciting in a way, even though he couldn’t stop himself from answering. He kept expecting Malfoy to snap back to the asshole he always showed outside of this room, but he wanted to have this talk and most likely would explain even without the serum. Albeit, not as verbosely or intelligently.    
  
“He told me that he’s all about inter-house unity but that there are times when Gryffindors need to think with their heads instead of their hearts. That he doesn’t judge or blame children of Death Eaters but that we need to be wary of them all the same.” Draco made a disgusted noise and Neville continued. “That it isn’t safe to be with Theo. That it’s dangerous not only for me but for Harry and everyone on the ‘light’ side. He acted as if I’m risking everything the ‘light’ has been fighting for since before I was born just by being with Theo. He was talking about romance and brotherhood, how they were different… He said…” Neville’s voice hitched. Draco realized the Gryffindor was trying very hard to not cry. “That… I would never measure up to…” Neville paused and swallowed. “You.”  
  
Draco did not miss the way Neville sarcastically emphasized the word ‘light’. He felt for the guy. He wasn’t sure why he was allowing these emotions but they _were_ alone, and Neville hadn’t told anyone about the softer side of Draco that he’s seen in this room. Draco felt his walls slip a little at Longbottom’s show of pain, even though he wasn’t willingly letting it happen. “Me?” he asked. The other boy nodded. Draco was floored. “He really said that?”  
  
Neville nodded again, his movements jerky this time. He sniffed and looked embarrassed. He composed himself with a few deep breaths and soldiered on. “He said that brotherhood is stronger than romance and that even though Theo’s family is neutral, if it came down to it, he’d choose you over me and I would have to fight him because you’ll most likely go dark. He told me to break up with him.”  
  
“Is that what you came here to do?” Draco’s words were sharp and full of warning. He would not take kindly to Neville hurting his friend.  
  
“No.”  
  
This surprised Draco. “You really love him,” the Slytherin mused. He hadn’t meant to say those words, but they came out anyway.  
  
Neville looked up in surprise and furrowed his brows. There it was, again. That word. “Yes.” His eyes widened. What? Yes? He was under veritaserum, so that had to be true. But… “Why do you and Ginny insist that it’s love? Theo and I have barely been together two weeks.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Longbottom. It’s just what flew out of my mouth. Don’t think anything of it.”  
  
But Neville did. And he wondered if it really was love. Veritaserum doesn’t let you lie, but it makes you speak _your_ truth, not _the_ truth. He might think he’s in love with Theo, but it might not actually be love. However, whether it was love or not, the truth was the truth. “He means too much to me to let him go.”  
  
That startled Draco. His parents often told him the story of their whirlwind romance and that they knew they loved each other within the first month of dating. He never understood how something as strong, deep, and complicated as love could be formed so quickly. “Even though your god of a headmaster told you to stay away from him?” Neville nodded. “Even though his suspicions about me were true? I’m a Death Eater. You can’t trust us. We are evil pureblood supremacists with no hearts who torture and murder and blahblahblah.” Draco’s tone turned sarcastic.  
  
Neville didn’t even pause to think. “He isn’t right about you.” This shocked the blonde. His mask disappeared for a few moments, allowing Neville to see surprise and hope in Malfoy’s eyes.  
  
“I have the Dark Mark. I am a Death Eater.”  
  
“Did you take it willingly?”  
  
Draco’s jaw tightened. “I did.”  
  
“Then, I can’t believe everything Dumbledore says.”  
  
Draco blinked. That was not what he was expecting. “What?”  
  
“If you willingly became a Death Eater and weren’t forced into it, then they, you, can’t be bad people. You’re a good person.”  
  
“What do _you_ know about _me?_ ” And the mask was back.  
  
“I know that you love Theo and your other friends. I know that you’ve allowed me in your room, into your private space, when you could have easily kicked me out as I know you’ve wanted to. I know that you’ve been protecting me, even though you hide behind the fact that it’s a rule of your house. I’ve seen a softer side of you and I know that someone like that could never kill anyone, or hurt anyone without good reason. I don’t understand the deal with Bellatrix and my parents, but you did say there’s a lot I don’t know and I know you can’t tell me, so I won’t ask.” His gaze traveled back to his knees. “I assume there are many reasons, good reasons, why you have to act the way you do. I can’t even begin to describe my confusion as to why Harry has to die, why Voldemort can’t just… I dunno. Talk to him? Is that so crazy of me to think? I mean, if you’re not bad, and the Death Eaters aren’t bad, then how can you follow someone who’s bad? So if Voldemort isn’t bad, why does he have to kill Harry?”  
  
Draco’s eyes were blown wide the next time Neville looked up at him. He had no answer. He had no idea that Neville was even this perceptive. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know how to react. But the Gryffindor seemed to understand what his silence meant.  
  
“It’s okay. I didn’t ask those for you to answer. It just came out as questions. Don’t mind me; I ramble a lot. Dumbledore’s talk with me tonight really messed with my head and I don’t know what to think, anymore. But you don’t need to hear any of it, so. I’m gonna shut up, now.”  
  
Draco took a few moments to really think about what was happening between them. Longbottom was talking a lot. More than Draco had ever heard him speak in all the years he’s known him. And it was pure, blunt truth. He narrowed his eyes. Wait a minute. He pushed off his bed, walked over to the Gryffindor, and took Neville’s chin in his hand.  
  
“Malfoy? Malfoy, what –”  
  
Draco tilted Neville’s chin up and stared directly into his eyes. His pupils were dilated and there were thin, almost unnoticeable silvery veins in the green of his irises. Draco briefly, for one fraction of a moment, mused that Longbottom’s eyes weren’t as pretty as Potter’s. “Veritaserum,” Draco muttered, fury rising. “He drugged you. Did you know?”  
  
To say that Neville was shocked would have been the understatement of the century. One, Draco willingly closed the distance between them. Two, Draco was willingly touching him. Three, Draco sounded like he was angry for him. Neville blinked a few times before gathering his thoughts enough to answer. “Um, yeah. But he didn’t know I knew. How’d _you_ know?”  
  
Draco’s eyes flitted back and forth between Neville’s, comparing his pupils and looking for other signs on the Gryffindor’s face. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Your pupils are dilated and there are veins – why am I explaining. I can just tell, alright? It looks as if it hasn’t been in your system long. It should be peaking now. It’s why you’ve been rambling so much.” He let his hand drop and took a step back to put space between them.  
  
“Yeah… how…” How did he know this?  
  
“Why is it peaking now rather than back in Dumbledore’s office? Did you not drink it until recently? It should already be past its peak strength if you drank it at the beginning of the meeting. Veritaserum doesn’t last very long.”  
  
Neville launched into an explanation. He hated the way he rambled, normally. With veritaserum, it was multiplied significantly. His cheeks turned pink from embarrassment. He could fight the effects for only so long, but he didn’t truly want to right now. Draco Malfoy was showing concern. Though it wasn’t for him directly, it was still concern for him in some way and it felt good. So he let his control fully slip. Not that he had a choice, anyway. “I knew it was in the tea before I drank it because of how pushy he was for me to have some. I declined a few times, but then he poured me a cup knowing how my grandmother raised me. It’d be really rude to refuse it. Being a pureblood, you know that etiquette. I faked drinking it for as long as I could, but I had to drain it somehow, so I drank some later on to keep him talking and believing it was in my system. I have a high tolerance to it; Gran made me build one up by force-feeding it to me on a regular basis during her training when I was a kid.”  
  
Draco was horrified. This was why he hated the type of purebloods who Dumbledore wanted to control the world with. The very same type the headmaster made the world believe was on Voldemort’s side. Supremacists, abusers, bigots. Apparently Longbottom’s grandmother was one of them. “Merlin,” he breathed. Then he cocked his head and stared at Neville strangely, his mind trying to work something out. “That was very Slytherin of you. I didn’t know you had that in you.”  
  
Neville blushed. Now Malfoy was complimenting him. He didn’t know how to react, but the serum kept him talking so he didn’t have to worry about that. “When I realized there was veritaserum in the tea, I asked myself what Theo would do and then I imagined him talking me through this in my head, as stupid as that sounds. That’s how I got through the meeting without mucking it all up. How backwards is that? A Slytherin taught a Gryffindor how to be brave.” He shook his head. “Anyway. He – Dumbledore – after going around in circles about how my grades have improved, finally got to what he brought me in for after a ton of talking. He wanted to tell me how dangerous it is to be with Theo, that I’ll never measure up to you, which I already knew because you’re his best friend and I’m just his boyfriend. Dumbledore made it clear that romance isn’t as important as brotherhood, like I told you before. Which I get; friends are, usually, forever. Romance isn’t, and it only gains importance when you get really serious. Like, being together forever serious. Dumbledore minimized our relationship and played into my insecurities like a professional. I think he did it on purpose. He wanted me to break up with Theo before Hogsmeade and I said I will, but that was because I almost said, ‘I will not.’ I was able to hold in the word ‘not’ because the serum hadn’t peaked, yet. So he thinks I’m going to break up with Theo but I can’t and I won’t. I love him. Merlin, I don’t know why; I barely know him and we’ve only been together for a couple of weeks. But I can’t tell him because it’s way too early, and the reason why I refuse to break up with him isn’t just because I’m in love with him, though that’s a huge reason. I’ve never felt like this before, and I haven’t been treated all that well throughout my life except by a few people and he accepts me for who I am. But it’s also because I saw Dumbledore’s true nature, and I’m deeply unsettled by it. I know I can’t tell anyone and I don’t understand why. Maybe it’s just not the right time? I mean, if Dumbledore’s really the bad guy in all this, then that makes Voldemort the good one, right? And, if that’s the case, why are we letting Harry and the rest of them believe the opposite is true? Is it just not the right time, yet? Please tell me you won’t let my friends fight to their deaths over a lie. I certainly won’t, and I will tell them if I have to. Please tell me you have a plan.”  
  
Draco heard the door open behind him toward the beginning of Neville’s latest ramble but said nothing. He wanted Theo to hear this, and he hoped it was Theo behind him. But Neville just kept going, so Draco had to interrupt him. “Longbottom! _Stop._ ” Neville took a big breath and let it out shakily, but he stopped talking. “Merlin’s _balls_ , you don’t shut _up_ on veritaserum.”  
  
Theo took this moment to make his presence known. “Nev? Draco? What the _bloody hell_ is going on?”  
  
Draco moved aside and nodded his greeting at Theo. Neville froze. He sucked in a breath and couldn’t let it out. He was terrified of the possibility that Theo heard him profess his love and that would _not_ be good.  
  
“How much did you hear?” Draco asked calmly.  
  
“Enough,” Theo responded heavily. He crossed the room to his bed, dropped his bag to the floor, and pulled Neville off the bed into a strong hug. He buried his face in Neville’s neck, a favorite of his both for when he needed soothing and when his boyfriend did. He felt how tense the Gryffindor was, and didn’t want to ever let go of him. “You know, Draco’s parents fell in love within the first few weeks of dating.”  
  
“You just had to bring my parents into this, didn’t you?” Draco grumbled. Theo didn’t answer. He was too focused on calming down the vibrating man in his arms.  
  
Neville usually melted into Theo’s hugs, but this one took a bit more coaxing because of how scared he was. He relaxed at those words, but was confused by what Theo meant by them. “Really?”  
  
“Yes. It happens. I know you haven’t been treated well in your life so far and that it’s hard for you to trust, but I’m not going anywhere. Even if I didn’t feel the same way about you yet, I’d grow to. But I do, Nev. And I’m not letting go of you, even if you did try to break it off with me.”  
  
He loved him. Theo loved him. Neville didn’t know what to say, so he let the serum do the talking. “I dunno what love even is. I dunno why I said that. I dunno how you could feel that for me.”  
  
“Because it’s what you feel, or at least your subconscious. I don’t know much about romantic love, either, but I know what I feel and from what I’ve gathered, that’s love.”  
  
Then everything really hit Neville. The whole night, what Dumbledore did to him, what his gran had done to him, spilling his guts to Malfoy, and Theo hearing him confess his feelings. He stepped back and Theo’s arms slackened. He searched those beautiful blue eyes and found nothing but truth. He was safe. He could break down, now. His legs gave way and he lowered himself back to the bed. Theo sat beside him on his right and threw an arm around his waist. “You okay?”  
  
Neville was not okay. His emotions were overloading and overwhelming him. Tears fell and wouldn’t stop. His chest tightened. He was hyperventilating. He put a hand over his mouth; he was insecure about people seeing him cry. Draco was suddenly in front of him, offering him a vial.  
  
“Calming draught. Drink, then I’ll get something to cancel the serum’s effects.”  
  
He drank, and instantly felt warmth spread throughout his body. His breathing became easier, his tears slowed, and his mind began to clear.  
  
“What’s happening?” Theo asked his friend.  
  
Draco walked back over to his bed and rummaged through his trunk. “Panic attack. He’s overloaded. It happens sometimes with veritaserum. It makes you say things you wouldn’t normally say, as you know, and can feel like a violation.” He glanced at the Gryffindor with questioning eyes. “Can I tell him about your grandmother?” He received a nod so he looked back at Theo. “Longbottom’s grandmother traumatized him. He told me earlier that when he was a kid, she forced him to drink it so much that he developed a tolerance. It helped him tonight with Dumbledore, but I’m pretty sure her ‘training’ gave him PTSD. Couple that with veritaserum violation and voila.” He motioned toward Neville. “He knew Dumbledore was trying to drug him tonight and he handled it well, but now that he’s in a safe space with his safe person, it’s all hitting him.”  
  
Theo’s eyes widened as Draco talked. He gritted his teeth in fury and the hand on Neville’s waist tightened. Yet, he had nothing to say. Anything he wanted to say held the potential to upset Neville more, so he remained silent.  
  
Draco found what he was looking for and moved to stand in front of Neville again. “Take this.”  
  
Neville didn’t know why he was okay with Malfoy telling Theo one of his most closely guarded secrets. Maybe it was because the cat was already out of the bag, and it might be nice for his boyfriend to know. Malfoy did, so Theo should. He never thought of what his gran did to him as traumatic, nor did he ever consider the possibility that he had PTSD from it. But now that Draco said it, it made sense. He was grateful for Theo’s silence. He felt how angry the Slytherin was and he wasn’t sure he could handle that right now. Theo seemed to recognize that. He was handed another vial and remembered what Draco said just a little bit ago, while he was drinking the calming draught. “This… cancels veritaserum?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“How? There’s no known antidote.”  
  
“There’s no antidote because no one ever had a need for it, before. Before my…” He paused. He nearly revealed an enormous secret. “Before someone I know was abused with it, I never thought twice about it. No one ever thought it warranted an antidote because it’s supposedly harmless. But I’ve seen the aftereffects, similar to yours. So I talked to Sev - Snape, and we created this. The only other person who knows about it is Slughorn, and that's because the jackass stole a vial from Snape.”  
  
“What’s in it?”  
  
“Something that’ll stop you from spilling your guts out. And it will probably make you tired. Drink.” He stood and gave Neville space.  
  
Neville didn’t question it. He trusted Malfoy and he trusted Theo. Theo wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. So he drank the unknown substance. He felt the buzzing in his head subside, but otherwise felt not much different. “Ask me something.”  
  
Draco thought for a moment. “What is Gryffindor’s password?”  
  
Neville felt the corners of his mouth tug into a smile. “Of course you’d ask that.” He felt that Malfoy was trying to make him feel better, which was preposterous, but he was going to let himself believe that. The Slytherin could’ve asked so many more personal questions, but he didn’t. “But I’m not telling.”  
  
Draco nodded. “And there you have it.”  
  
Theo pulled Neville into a side hug and kept him there. Neville melted into it. Then yawned. He was suddenly exhausted. Theo helped him fully onto the bed and told him to lie down. “Don’t you have questions?” Neville asked after another yawn.  
  
“Thousands. But Draco can tell me everything if you don’t mind; you need to sleep. Or he could show me; he has a pensieve.”  
  
“I don’t mind.”  
  
“Alright.” Theo kissed him sweetly. “I love you.”  
  
Neville’s heart filled with happiness and a huge smile bloomed on his face through his sleepy eyes. “I love you, too.”  
  
Theo smiled back at him and helped him under the covers. “Go to sleep.”  
  
Neville closed his eyes, but they popped open as he remembered something from much earlier in the evening. “Wait! Ginny!”  
  
“Ginny?”  
  
“She said she was gonna wait up for me. She’s probably worried sick by now.”  
  
“I’ll send her a memo for you, don’t worry.”  
  
Neville visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”  
  
Theo caressed his cheek. “You’re welcome.”  
  
“G’night.”  
  
“Good night, love.” Theo stood, closed the curtains, and shrugged off his robe.  
  
“Thank you, Malfoy,” they heard.  
  
“You’re welcome.” Draco felt odd. About answering Longbottom, but also about everything. Most of all, about the fact that he’d come to care for the Gryffindor. He couldn’t think about that, right now. He shook his head again and grabbed his pensieve.  
  
Theo scribbled a quick note and charmed it to fly to Ginny Weasley in Gryffindor Tower. When he turned toward his best friend, his shoulders drooped as he finally let his emotions show on his face. He was devastated and angry by what he heard about what happened to Neville that night, and from his past with his grandmother. Theo was not ready to see Draco’s memories, explaining the rest of the story. He walked over and sat on Draco’s bed.  
  
Draco climbed up with him. He pulled the memories of the night from his head and dropped them into the bowl. “Ready?” he asked his friend.  
  
Theo took a deep breath. “No.”  
  
Draco smiled grimly. “It’s bad, I won’t lie.”  
  
“But I have to see it. Let’s do this.”  



End file.
